


The Truth is in the Eyes

by AcrylicMist



Series: 4am work fics [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aftergame, Amnesia, Canon-Typical Violence, Dave is a god, DaveKat-freeform, Denial, Gen, Godstuck, M/M, Magic, Memory Loss, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Sexual Content, Slight kidnapping, Slow Build, Slow Burn, classpecting madness, davekat - Freeform, light gore, so is everyone else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 00:18:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 74,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcrylicMist/pseuds/AcrylicMist
Summary: He'd died twice, and even after four thousand years he was still dealing with this red-eyed human's bullshit.





	1. The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I found there was a lack of Davekat Godstuck so I wrote my own because I have no self control and forty five free minutes at work at 4am with which to write this entire fic out in the notes section of my phone.
> 
> Enjoy the fruits of my 4am sleep deprived Davekat-addicted mind.

The brazier lit the cold stone room. Water dropped down the walls and ran over runes older than memory could record. The underground alcove was one of the old places, holy and sacred. It lacked the flare and glitter of modern temples, but these stones sang with secret things. When the firelight flickered a hint of red paint could be seen on the far wall over the endlessly spinning circle of a red gear, a sigil marked in stone for that which had no end. 

The small group crowded closer, their black robes moving softly in the still air. But these were no worshippers come down from the surface to gaze at one of Time’s elusive holy places. They were cultists, and to the side a bound figure struggled against the bag over his head. 

The cultists started the ritual. They etched chalk circles on the floor and lit white and red candles that smelled of thyme. They chanted and called out names, invoked the attention of something both older and greater than themselves, and when the time came the ritual leader called for the sacrifice to be brought forward. 

He fought. He writhed and thrashed, hissing against the gag. They lashed him hand and foot to the four stone pillars that rose from the corners of the old red stone slab. It’s paint was chipped and faded, the mosaic face cracked, but the slab still hummed with power. 

“By these words I bind you,” the lead cultist chanted, a indigoblooded troll with backswept horns and fangs to make a sabercat jealous. He drug the point of the knife down the bound troll’s flesh until blood beaded up. “By this blood I bind you,” he commanded. 

The captive struggled harder. Everyone knew that a sacrifice was needed to summon a god, and he wasn’t keen on being slit and quartered under the cultist’s clawed hands. He tried to speak, to spit curses, but the gag was well done and choked him into silence.

With a flourish the bag was ripped away and the captive saw the stone alcove for the first time. His skin was screaming where it came into contact with the slab beneath him, humming with a wild energy that burned itself into his flesh. The red stone soaked up the blood offered to it. His eyes were wide and furious and scared. 

The knife went up. “By this deed I summon you, Time,” the highblood said. “I summon thee and I bind thee to me, god of war and god of sword. Knight, hear me! I bind thee to this earth and I bind thee by this deed.” 

His snarl was lost in the gag, so he glared hatred at the highbloods. Even caught and helpless he wasn’t going to make this easy for them.

“Time!” The troll chanted, his circle of cultists swaying around him to unheard music. “Reveal yourself!” The knife met the skin of the captive troll’s throat, tense in readiness to drag across the flesh there and let the blood pour out. 

The stones were shrieking, a discordant chorus of bells sprang forth out of nothingness as the ritual reached its crescendo. 

With a dragging pull of the air, the symbol for Time lit with holy fire on the wall behind them. It hung over the sacrificial slab and burned with red light as sparks filled the air. All at once the runes etched across the walls were glowing, flame traced its way across the walls and floors as the cult circle cowered inside their chalk protection as the air shimmered.

It burned. It ached and stretched, shadows flowing as water to where the floor dipped down between the slab and the wall, where a figure was taking form. 

Time stepped out of the air and into the room. He filled the room. The god was more than the alcove could ever hope to hold, boundless and elemental, so he wrapped himself smaller and smaller, folded himself down into a single form as the glowing power of the runes and the magic of the circle lashed at him. Fire exploded outwards, a bright flare of pure red light, then nothing as darkness crashed over the chamber.

The brazier slowly flickered back to life as the cultists whispered and numbered amongst themselves. In the weak firelight the shadows seemed darker than before.

“Where is he?” They asked, “Did it work?”

A cough sounded, dusty lungs rattling down their first breath in centuries. “Did... did one of you fuckers try to bind me in human form?” Red eyes, bloody and alight with flame snapped open from the shadows. “Rude.” 

The god stepped forward, flesh pale as the dead, hair white as snow. His eyes burned red. 

“My Lord,” The lead cultist scrambled back, prostrating himself, “Time, it is a humble servant who calls you, Lord of men and Lord of trollkind.”

The god stepped closer and stopped when the circle at his feet flared to life. Runes snaked through the air and hummed with ancient power. He looked down slowly at the circle binding him, then to where the captive and bleeding troll still fought against his bonds on the stone slab. 

“Oh hell,” the god said. “You just fucked up.” 

“My Lord?” The cultist said, eying where the god had stopped short of the circle. “Is it really you?” 

Time said nothing. His form was growing clearer, his edges less splintered as the magic of the circle bound him. Shoulders took shape, clenched fists. A mouth set in a flat line below high cheekbones. 

“I’ll give you exactly four minutes and thirteen seconds to explain what the fuck you think you’re doing,” the god said, his voice low with rage. 

The cultists leaned back, uncertain and afraid while their leader pressed forward. 

“Time,” he spoke, “long has it been since you last walked among us. The gods have grown distant and deaf to our cries. My Lord, I would ask a boon of you,” the highblood’s voice was strong and steady. “Your people are suffering. Help us to set the world right again. Help us, god of war, help us cleanse the unholy that plague our society and usher in a new era. Help us to take our rightful place in the world.” 

“I see,” Time considered the tall troll in front of him. “You know, that sounds a lot like the subjugation of those you don’t like. What makes you think you deserve to be on top?” 

The question made the indigoblood bounce back on his feet. “Is this a task you ask of me?” He inquired eagerly. “A challenge? Some way of which to prove myself worthy?” 

The god sighed. “No,” he said. “Genocide is fucking wrong, end of the story.” He looked behind the highblood at the other robed cultists. “Are you all trolls back there, because I’m pretty sure you are.”

“Yes, my Lord,” The troll answered. 

“Cut it out with all this my Lord shit,” Time snapped, the first hint of emotion in his voice. “I’m no one’s Lord.”

“Time then,” The troll complied. “Surely you know of the state of the world...”

“The world is far larger than whatever backwards city alley you crawled out of,” Time growled. “Did you really think this grand scheme of yours would work?” 

“But Time,” The cultist pleaded. 

“No,” the god answered. His head turned to the side as if listening to something only he could hear. “And your four minutes and thirteen seconds are up. It’s my turn now motherfucker.”

The god stepped closer. The circle at his feet strained to hold him back, to keep Time contained. “Since you did manage to bring me here and I’m feeling pretty fucking generous at the moment, I’ll give you three answers.” The god held up a hand to ward off the lead troll before he could interrupt. “I am going to tell you exactly what you did wrong.”

“I don’t understand,” the troll said. He sounded puzzled as to why the god wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to act all murderous. 

“First,” Time continued, “this sounds a lot like you want to reinstate the hemospectrum, which I’m sure you know was made all hells of illegal by the unanimous vote of all the gods. That’s one fucking law I will not see broken. Second,” he said, “I am not a dog for you to call and sic on people you don’t agree with. The gods do not exist to solve your petty little problems. And thirdly,” he continued relentlessly, the troll now cowering and covering his face. “I can see that you’ve kidnapped some poor fucker and were fully committed to killing him in your insane summoning ritual, which, I might add, is completely fucking useless. I cannot be summoned or bound against my will. That’s a perk of being a god I guess. I’m the one who wrote the rule book, remember?”

“But,” The troll stammered, “You, then.”

“The only reason I chose to be here is to save that guy from bleeding out all over my fucking floor,” Time said, his voice cold as ice. “I am the Knight of Time, protector of all in need. I stand in his defense, not yours.”

“I bound you,” The troll said, desperation on his face. “By this blood I bind thee, by this-”

“And that’s enough of that,” Time said, and the circle at his feet crumpled as he cracked his knuckles. Freed, the god traced his fingers through the air and left a trail of fire behind that hung glowing. “I’ll give you a head start if you leave right now and run very fast. See? I did say I was feeling generous.” 

“No!” The cult leader snarled, baring his teeth at the god. He waved away the runes in the air and bristled with threat. “God or not, Time, I won’t have this. Play your fancy tricks all you like, I bound you. I did. Me!”

“You,” Time repeated. His voice was flat and emotionless. He sounded cold. 

“Me,” The indigoblood said smugly. 

The god smiled. It was a terrible smile, and it cracked the mask of his face in awful ways. The gear on the wall still burned red. “Very well then” he said. “You. For the crimes of attempting to reinstate the hemocaste system, advocating mass genocide, and attempted ritual sacrifice on a fellow being, I sentence you to die.” 

Before the troll could so much as flinch, Time held out a hand. The highblood froze, wrinkles cut their way through the gray of his face. Gray streaked through his wild snarl of hair as his horns grew dull and twisted. Sweeps passed in a handful of seconds, and when the troll’s naked bones hit the ground they immediately crumpled to dust. 

The god rounded on the other cultists, wolfish and predatory, his red eyes burning, every inch of him pale and inhuman and terrifying. “Run,” he said. 

They did, scrambling and falling over each other in their haste to flee back up to the surface and away from the furious god they’d unleashed. 

The captive troll had kept silent throughout the entire affair. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He had enough common sense to know that one does not fuck with the gods. Period. 

Time turned to the remaining troll and quickly crossed over to the stone slab. Under his hands the chains rusted away to nothing and the troll recoiled as far as he was able to once their weight had dropped off and left him free to move. 

“Are you alright?” The god asked, honestly sounding concerned. 

The troll said nothing. He didn’t even look at the god and his wounds stung. The pile of dust that was all that remained of his captor looked small and pathetic. He pulled up his hood to hide his face and moved as far away from Time as he thought he could get away with without insulting the god. His skin still burned from where it’d been in contact with the cold stone.

Time wasn’t paying attention. He’d dipped one long fingered hand into where blood pooled against the sacrificial slab and held it to the light from the brazier. “Red,” he said, the blood’s color clear to him now.

The troll froze. There was something in the god’s tone, something painful. 

“So?” The troll asked, breaking his silence. “It’s a fucking odd color, I know it shouldn’t exist. Why the fuck did you think those hiveshit maggots highbloods wanted to cull me?” He challenged. 

“Holy shit,” the god said, his red eyes widening. “Holy SHIT!”

Time’s hand flashed forward, so fast it was a blur. With two fingers he flicked the hood from off of the troll’s face so that the scarce firelight fell across the planes of his face. 

“Oh my god,” Time said, his face breaking open into some unreadable expression. “Karkat?”


	2. A Time to Meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heck yeah chapter two!

Chapter two. 

“How the fuck do you know my name?” The troll demanded, his skin crawling even though he was away from the slab. He felt it even now, twisting under his skin. It made him feel sick.

“You’re alive,” Time said, frozen motionless. 

“Yeah,” Karkat said, torn between thanking the god for saving him and running very far away. The god made him feel like prey. “It’ll take more than a few knife wounds to kill me.”

“You’re alive,” The god repeated, staring at Karkat like if he blinked the troll would vanish. 

“We just agreed on that fact,” Karkat said, now nauseous with the surrealistic nature of the entire situation “Now how did you...” he trailed off self-consciously, highly aware that the figure at his side was a literal god that had just casually murdered someone. He scrambled for worshipper’s tips for this particular god but kept coming up blank. The Knight was the most unknown of all the gods, famous for being uninvolved. Karkat wasn’t sure what to make of any of this and it was freaking him the fuck out.

Time set a single finger against the troll’s throat and he froze at the unfamiliar touch. He expected it to be cold, or burn, but instead the god’s hand was warm as his pulse hammered beneath Time’s hand. The twisting in his belly calmed immediately as the god’s touch erased the hostile magic left over from the slab. It was surprisingly soothing. 

“You are alive,” The god said, withdrawing his hand from the troll's pulse like he couldn't believe it until he'd felt the life beating under his skin. “Karkat.” 

“That’s my name,” The troll answered, “how did you know it?”

The god blinked at him and his face fell into a smooth blank expression. All of the life that had so suddenly sprung into being was immediately locked away again. “You don’t remember,” Time said. 

“Remember what?” Karkat asked. He felt defensive and he didn’t know why. The god’s eyes never left him as he squirmed and clamped a hand down across his forearm, hissing as blood seeped from between his claws. None of the wounds were very deep, but they’d been carved to draw blood and draw lots of it. The troll was beginning to feel lightheaded from the loss.

“Here, let me help with that,” Time jumped up as the gear on the wall flared with light. Karkat wasn’t sure how, but suddenly the god’s hands were full of bandages. 

The troll said nothing as the god gently bound the troll’s bleeding arms, careful not to touch him again. It was surreal, the Knight of Time was here and was winding bandages around a mutant troll’s wounds. This shouldn’t be happening. It was so far beyond anything that should be possible that Karkat couldn’t think around the block in his pan. 

Instead he talked. “What did you mean?” He asked, “About me not remembering?”

He knew the question was on thin ice. He didn’t know what would set the god off, and he couldn’t stop remembering how those bloody eyes had burned with a righteous and silent fury. 

“Why did those cultist fucks try to knife you to death?” The god countered evasively. 

“Why did you stop them?” Karkat challenged. “I didn’t ask for your help.” He almost wanted to take back the words at the flash of hurt in the god’s eyes. Damn his abrasive tongue. He had to remember not to verbally snap at the god like he would anyone else.

“Okay,” Time said, pausing to reset himself. “We both have questions than neither of us have the answers to,” he said, “how about we leave off with the interrogations until after we figure out what the actual fuck is going on?” 

“See, you say that and it just leaves me with even more fucking questions than before,” the troll said. “Could you be anymore fucking vague?” Shit, his plan to act nicer had failed in less than five seconds.

The god laughed as Karkat’s face flushed with color. He’d just cursed at a god, smiting was imminent, he was sure of it. 

“Yep, you’re definitely Karkat,” Time said, not in the least bit offended. “Are you sure you don’t remember anything?” 

The troll looked at the god, really looked at him. White hair, skin far too pale even by human standards, eyes still faintly glowing with red light. He looked closer, taking in the smooth length of the god’s pale neck, over where collarbones just peeked out from the top of the sparse red garment he wore. He was unarmed and barefoot, slim of build and flat muscled. Something clicked deep in the troll’s thinkpan, shifted and shaken, just teasingly out of reach. 

“No,” he answered honestly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Time didn’t react. He must have expected the answer. “Listen,” he said, “what if I could help you remember?”

“Are you saying that I’ve forgotten something?” Karkat asked, “I’m pretty sure I’d remember ever meeting a god before.”

“I never said that we’ve met before,” Time said smugly, “But you knew anyway.”

Karkat fell silent, nearly biting his tongue. How had he known? Had it just been a lucky guess? The god was almost familiar to him, even as alien and unknowable as he was. Maybe there was something wrong with his memory.

“So let’s say I’ve been made to forget something,” Karkat started. “Would you know why?”

“Maybe,” The god said. “I’m not sure.”

“You thought I was dead,” Karkat suddenly realized why the god had looked at him so strangely. “What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know,” the god sounded so uncertain. “We all thought you were dead.”

“We?”

“Oh fuck,” the god jumped up, energy moving through the air around him. “You’re not dead! I’ve got to tell the others.”

“What others?” Karkat asked. What the fuck was going on?

“The other gods,” Time explained excitedly. “You’re alive and I’ve found you.” He frowned, “Also I should probably let them know that hemocaste cultists are running around trying to murder people to summon us. That’s kind of a big problem too.”

“The other gods?” Karkat echoed. “Why would they care?”

“Trust me, they do,” Time said, “Are you well enough to travel? There’s a town nearby with some temples in it that I need to get to.”

“I think so,” Karkat said, “they only cut to bleed, not cripple.”

“They were going to slit your throat,” The god pointed out. “Right here,” he patted the old stone slab like it didn’t make his flesh crawl just from being near. “Those fuckers didn’t even know what this is, or what they were messing with.”

“Is any of this even real?” Karkat asked curiously. “Did they actually slit my throat and this is me dead and dreaming?”

“Nope,” The god said. “You’re alive, and I’m going to make sure that doesn’t change.”

“What the fuck.”

“Let’s go,” Time said, “those cultists should be far away by now and the moon is setting.”

“You’re coming with me?” Karkat asked, confused. “Why?”

“Let’s just say I’m very invested in how this turns out,” the god answered. “And it’s been a few centuries since anything half this interesting has happened. As long as I’m down here walking around I might as well get some shit taken care of.”

“Did, did they really bind you?” Karkat asked cautiously. He recalled the image of Time’s shifting form, his splintered edges growing solid as he was wrapped in human flesh.

“Not they,” Time answered. “When I heard them call I bound myself to save you. Only I can bind myself. It’s a choice.”

That didn’t sound too bad, but it did make it seem like it was Karkat’s fault. “So you’re human now?”

“Mostly,” Time said. “I’m in a physical form at this particular moment, but besides that I’m still me. Being bound isn’t bad or anything. It’s just a change in forms of existence. I now exist physically on this plane.”

“I don’t understand any of that,” Karkat said blankly. 

“If my plan works, you will,” Time promised. “Let’s go.” 

Karkat stood on shaky legs and swayed to the side. His sense of balance spun as uselessly as the floor beneath him and all of his bruises throbbed. He could feel a headache starting. 

The god seized him gently under an arm and pulled the troll against his side. “Easy, Karkat,” he said. “I can’t let you pass out on me. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” The troll snapped, hating how weak he was. At his side the god was warm. He could have sworn he felt a heartbeat in there. Ridiculous. 

“We can rest for tonight,” Time said, “If you’re not fit for travel.”

“Fuck off,” Karkat couldn’t seem to stop cursing at the Knight. It must be the blood loss. 

“We’ll go slow,” the god decided. Somehow he was wearing boots now, and his outfit looked normal and unobtrusive, though Karkat could still see the red at his sleeves. He could almost have passed for mortal, except for those scarlet eyes. No finery or jewelry accompanied the god of Time. The cut of his outfit was simple and clean. He looked like one of a hundred travelers. 

“How do you keep doing that?” Karkat asked curiously. 

“Magic,” Time said simply. “It helps me blend in.”

“Magic,” Karkat repeated weakly. 

He slowly retraced his steps to the surface. The massive stone doorway that separated the chamber from the rest of the cave system locked itself behind the two of them and vanished without a trace. 

“I’m curious about how they found and then broke into my inner chamber,” Time mused. “I thought that was one secret I buried deep.”

“I have no idea,” Karkat said, “I wasn’t with them for long enough to learn anything that made sense.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” The god said. 

The cave was shallow and soon the sky was overhead. It was overcast thickly enough that the moon’s face was obscured. 

“I hope you know where you’re going,” Karkat said as the god didn’t even pause to check for directions before turning off and starting for the woods. 

“I don’t get lost,” Time chimed back at him. “And I know this part of the world particularly well.”

The night was chilled and dark enough for Karkat’s eyes to notice the depth of the shadows. The god continued easily through the dark trees without a misstep even without a torch. “How far is this town?” Karkat asked. 

“At this speed?” The god asked, holding back a wall of vines for the troll to duck under. “A little over two hours. The sun should rise just as we enter the town.”

“Do you know the town’s name?” Karkat asked curiously. 

“I did once,” Time said, “But they probably changed it over time.”

Karkat walked in silence for a long minute, his thinkpan stewing. If he had a god as his travel companion he might as well take the opportunity to learn more about him. “When was the last time you walked around like this?”

“It hasn’t been long,” Time answered smoothly. “I’ve been pulling visitations all over for decades, probably a few dozen times a year. Small miracles, blessings, random not so happenstance meetings down lonely back alleys. But it’s been a few centuries since I’ve been fully bound like this.”

Centuries. It struck Karkat again how old the god was. Time was ancient. He’d been there for the Beginning, and would be there to witness the Ending. Karkat’s entire life was less than a single blink of time to such a being and the realization of his own spectacular unimportance stopped his tongue for a moment.

The hours passed. Karkat was weaker than normal, but he kept the easy pace without complaining. Time almost seemed to know exactly how fast Karkat could drag his feet along before his chest began to feel tight and breathless. The cuts down his arms burned and itched. 

“Hey,” Time said as they broke free of the trees and onto a dirt road. “You were kidnapped. Isn’t there anyone out there that might be worried about you?”

Again with Time acting like he cared. There was even an uncertain waver in his voice, almost indistinguishable beneath his cool facade. The troll saw through it immediantly.

Karkat grimaced. “Nope,” he said. 

“No one?”

“No one important,” Karkat said. He didn’t want to admit how much of a nobody he was to the god. No special skills or talents, no family. There was absolutely nothing interesting about him except for his mutant blood. 

The god blinked at him and Karkat couldn’t name the emotion he saw flicker behind those clear eyes.

“We’re nearly there,” Time said. The sky was turning gray above them and the troll felt his energy flagging. He’d had a rough few days and his back and shoulders were sore from the hike. 

Time seemed to notice without Karkat saying anything. The troll was determined to not look weak before the Knight of Time. Ahead, smoke trails from chimneys began to show against the rapidly lightning sky and the troll could smell the rank scent of goats nearby. A dog was barking. 

The town was small and modest, mostly farmers and a small but respectable market square. The inn was one of the few two story buildings around. 

“I thought you wanted to find a temple?” Karkat asked as he followed the disguised god into town. 

“That can wait until after you get some sleep and food in you,” Time said. 

Karkat’s traitorous stomach growled at the mention of food. 

“I thought so,” The god joked lightly as Karkat scowled at him. 

The wood and stone inn was clean cut, a round-faced brownblood with long sweeping horns manned the counter with a young human girl who stared wide-eyed at them as they came in the door. 

The innkeeper smiled kindly at them. “What can I get you two travelers?” She asked. 

“A room would be nice,” Time said, endlessly charming. 

A carving of Breath hung on the wall behind the counter, his long windsock painted the color of the sky. The godsign for breath was strung around the tiny figure’s neck. 

“Two beds or one?” The innkeeper asked.

“Just one is fine,” The god answered as Karkat’s face flushed. “With breakfast if you can.”

“That’ll be three crowns extra,” The innkeeper replied, already rummaging through the drawer at her side for a key.

Time put a hand in a pocket and somehow drew out the exact coin to cover the cost. 

“Brucilla will show you to your room,” She said, handing the child a tin key. “If there’s anything else you’d like you just let me know.”

“Thank you,” Time said, and the child tugged at his sleeve with her tiny fingers. 

“This way, misters,” She chimed. “I’ll bring up your food as soon as it’s fixed.”

Karkat followed after the two of them, the girl chattering away like a sparrow as the god attentively listened with an easy grin. 

The room was small, sparse, and well put together. It was far better than other inns the troll had stayed at. The door even came with its own lock and the straw mattress wasn’t attempting to crawl away. 

“You should get some rest,” Time said as the door closed behind them. “How are your arms doing?”

“Do I even want to know how you could afford this?” Karkat asked to cover up his sudden unease. He’d been alone with the god for several hours, but in a cramped and locked room it was different. In such a small space it was hard to ignore how the god felt so much bigger than the room could contain. Karkat could feel it prickling behind his eyes whenever he caught Time’s still form in the corners of his gaze. “The cultists robbed me of everything I had.”

The god shrugged. “People throw coins into church fountains all the time,” he said. “They leave offerings too.”

“Priests collect all of that for the church and the poor,” Karkat said. 

“They do,” Time nodded, “But I can still take a few coins from my alcoves and shrines.”

It sounded just right enough for Karkat not to argue, though he couldn’t remember ever seeing offerings at any of the scarce shrines pledged in the honor of the elusive Knight. 

“Why the one bed if you’re loaded?” Karkat asked curiously, not even surprised that the god was as rich as a king. It was only fitting. 

“I don’t really sleep,” Time admitted. “The bed’s for you.”

The troll filed away the information away in his thinkpan. The knowledge that the god wouldn’t make the single bed situation a Big Deal did make him feel better. There was a knock at the door.

“Food’s ready misters,” came the small girl’s voice.

Time greeted the girl warmly and thanked her for the food. He even handed her a shiny penny as she left, which she stared at and giggled before running off with it clenched in her fist. 

“Eat up,” The god said, turning back with the steaming plate in his hands. “Then sleep.”

“What about you?” Karkat asked curiously.

“I’m going to poke around the town,” he said. “See what there is to see.”

That didn’t sound suspicious in the least, but what could Karkat say about it? It wasn’t that he was afraid of rebuking the god, fuck that, but he did understand that there were things he simply didn’t understand about Time and his motives and the disconnect was just enough to make him pause. “Stay out of trouble then,” Karkat said. “Towns like this don’t like outsiders.”

“I make no promises,” The god joked, “See you later Karkat.”

The words brought him up short. That cheerful phrase, said so effortlessly, rang through Karkat's head. He was certain he’d heard Time say that before, he must have. The memory was there, tantalizingly out of reach as the god ducked out of the room. For the first time since Time had mentioned lost memories, he felt like it wasn’t the bullshit he thought it’d been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last slow chapter but there's always got to be that one worldbuilding thing to set the pace before I can projectile vomit plot everywhere. Also bonus- Writing Dave being kind to small children is my new aesthetic fight me


	3. The Temple of Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three is here!
> 
> I am like one of those lap dogs that sits on the sofa and thrives on positive reinforcement, so please feel free to leave comments. I love comments and do my best to answer them.

Chapter three. 

The roadside shrine was in the holy sector of town, side by side with the 19 other temples to the gods. The temple in dedication to the Seer of Light was dark wood and stone, nothing fancy. The open doorway led into the inner chambers, now empty of worshippers offering prayers or entreating the god of Light for wisdom. The statue of the Seer sat with her legs folded elegantly beneath her, the carven stone rubbed smooth by decades of passing hands. The candles burned low and Karkat held his breath as Time slipped past the door. He expected something to happen as the god crossed the threshold of the temple.

“Why Light?” The troll asked.

Time knelt wordlessly before the edifice of the other god. Karkat had again grown used to the god’s presence. The Knight seemed human at times, but now, Karkat fought the urge to look away. 

He knew he was seeing something no mortal should see, something holy and sacred. Time dipped his fingers into the shallow bowl held in Light’s lap, which was forbidden as fuck, and ripples fractured the still surface. 

“Hey Light,” The god said, and the air thrummed. “Pick up the phone. I’ve got something you’ll want to see for yourself.”

The words were common, except phone, what the fuck was a phone, but the trickle of power in the air was not. Time again felt so much bigger, so much more, than the slight figure kneeling in the temple could contain. It was another glimpse under the surface of Time’s white skin as his eyes glowed scarlet. 

The stone statue’s carved eyes snapped open. Twin suns burned in the sockets, each a tiny flame in the godsign of Light as the candles flared bright enough to fill the shrine. 

“Time,” the statue spoke without moving its stone mouth. The voice echoed oddly, ringing through the chamber.

“Hey sis,” Time answered calmly, like a visitation from an actual god was normal for him. “How’re things?”

“What have you done now?” Light asked, signing in exasperation. “You’re in human form. Why have you chosen to contact me in this manner?”

“Rose,” Time said, “You might want to get down here. I’ve found someone and I want you to take a look at them for me to tell me if I’ve finally fucking lost it or if this is really happening.”

“What do you mean?” Light asked, the stone face of her effigy expressionless. It was surreal, seeing those twin suns burning in the eyes of that dark stature as the god’s voice echoed out.

Time waved him forward, and Karkat stepped close. As soon as he crossed into the inner alcove he felt static buzz across his skin like a thousand eyes. The weight of the god of Light and Magic’s attention crashed over him. 

The Seer said nothing, but the candles burned brighter. 

“What do you see?” Time asked her. “He doesn’t remember anything.”

“Impossible,” Light breathed and all at once the fire went out and left just the burning glare of the symbol of Light illuminated across the mosaic floor. 

The god of Light flowed out of the center of her flame and into the room, unbound and ethereal. Her orange robes were shining and beautifully woven, trimmed in gold and blue. Her hood was up, and from beneath it the Seer’s famed eyes were burning purple. Behind her the stature’s eyes still glowed.

She lowered the hood as Karkat stood enraptured at the second god. 

“Karkat.” It was not a question, though she, like Time, should not have known his name. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” The god sounded surprisingly sad. 

Time leaned closer, “See? I found him.”

“But what does it mean?” She asked him, and the candles flared to life again one after the other. The god of Light was different from Time, who still stood in commoner wear. Her misty outfit was resplendent and shimmering, her symbol glowed at her chest and in her eyes. She hung in the air like fog, not really there. He could see the wall of the shrine through her, thought Karkat knew that meant nothing. The Seer could bring an army to its knees. 

“I don’t care,” Time said, snapping Karkat back to the present. “He’s alive. That’s all that matters to me.” 

“May I?” It took a second for the troll to realize he was being addressed. 

Light stepped forward and her feet skimmed over the mosaics, not quite there in form. 

Karkat nodded and the god brushed two ghostly fingers across his temple. The touch was light and painless, but he hissed in a sharp breath as he felt a gentle probing in his pan, just hard enough for things to slide out of place for a moment.

“It’s him,” She confirmed, taking her translucent hand away. Her violet eyes were wide. “But he has no memory of before.”

“How is any of this fucking possible?” Time demanded, running a frustrated hand through his pale hair. “It’s been four thousand years.”

Karkat had no idea what was going on. He held his tongue in the presence of Light. She was known to be cruel to those who tread unworthy into her holy places, and the troll hadn’t set an offering into the pool or said any prayer for good luck or clarity. He didn’t even know any prayers to the Seer. 

He’d never considered himself religious before meeting the two gods in person. Life was strange. 

“Um, Light?” Karkat said respectfully, “you’re the god of wisdom and knowledge, but I really have no idea what’s going on.” Both of the gods blinked at him. He continued. “Honestly, since I was kidnapped I’m struggling to believe any of this is happening. Why am I here?”

“Kidnapped?” Her skin eyebrows rose and she shot an accusatory look at Time. 

“Yeah,” Time said sheepishly. “There’s some hemocaste cult highblood bullshit afoot. They tried to sacrifice him to me in exchange for help with their genocide plan. Don’t worry I took care of them.”

She clicked her tongue at the god in displeasure and the room darkened. “I see,” she said. “Though I don’t know where they got the idea of sacrificing someone from.”

Karkat snorted. He knew where they’d gotten the idea from. “It’s because people are garbage,” he said as Time bit back a laugh.

“It worked, didn’t it?” The god joked before his face settled into something more serious. “Is there some way to get his memory back?” Time asked. “Seer?”

“Not I,” Light answered. “You’ve called on the wrong Seer. Mind may be able to help, as this falls within her realm of responsibility. At the very least she’ll be able to tell what we’re up against.”

That couldn’t be good. Mind was known to be… temperamental. 

“Where did you last see Mind?” Time asked curiously. “It’s been a few years for me.”

“Yesterday,” Light said, unsurprised. “She also mentioned troll cultists. We might have a problem on our hands.”

“413 is in a week,” Time said. “We’re all meeting up at the Point again like we always do. I’ll take Karkat there and we’ll see what happens.”

“Wait,” Karkat said, his eyes wide. “What point? What’s 413?”

“Time,” Light nodded at the troll pointedly. “As much as I would love to share all with him, I know for once that’s not my place. That’s your job.”

“Thanks sis,” The Knight said, dipping his head to her. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Please do,” she said. “I will let everyone know about Karkat’s miraculous appearance. We’ll be waiting at the point.”

“We’ll be there,” Time promised. 

Light began to dissolve. She was not bound or physically there with them, and her shape faded away like light across water until only her purple eyes were left. 

“I’ll see you soon,” she said, and then the only god in the room was Time. 

“You have some explaining to do,” Karkat said, uncowed and ready to argue. He felt bolder without Light’s violet eyes pinning him in place. 

Time held a finger to his lips and ducked out of the shrine. Behind him the statue’s eyes were still open and the godsign for Light still glowed faintly from each hollow pupil. 

“Let’s go before anyone notices we were here,” The god said. 

“Will the eyes close again?” Karkat asked, staring uncomfortably at the stone statue. The air smelled like magic, the buzz of power and fire.

“Probably not,” Time admitted. “The churchgoers will notice soon and this town will have its own small miracle to brag about to the neighbors.”

“Oh,” The troll said, slightly off put by the god’s casual answer. 

“Don’t worry about it,” The god said as they walked out of the growing crowd that flooded the small market. “Miracles happen all the time.”

They walked through rows of temples and shrines. The largest were to the gods of Breath, the Maid, and the Witches, as could be expected in a small farm-based town. “Not here they don’t,” Karkat said. 

Time looked at him oddly and blinked. “Let me guess,” he said. “You never felt drawn to any particular god so you kept out of church life.”

“Not fair,” Karkat protested. “I can’t remember things right. You might have known that from before.”

“No I wouldn’t have,” Time answered. “But I know I’m right either way. It makes sense.”

“How?” Karkat asked. “None of this makes sense.”

They passed a small shrine, nothing more than a single wall painted with red. A familiar red godsign hung on the wall, below a plain nameplate that read “The Knight of Time”. The shrine was a sorry sight, weeds growing up around the base and litter scattered everywhere. It was clear no one had given any thought to Time’s shrine for a long time. Two rusty and crooked swords leaned against the wall, and that was it.

Time passed the wall without pausing.

“Wait,” Karkat said, stopping. “Is this all there is for you?” The town was small, but every other god had a full temple, not one crumbling wall. He knew the Knight’s temples were normally smaller, but this was a shocking difference. He wasn’t sure why, but it bothered him. It bothered him a lot.

Time just shrugged. “Breath and the Witch are popular because everyone thanks them for keeping the land rich and the people fed. The people need them,” he said. “People only come to me when things go wrong.”

“What?” 

Time kept walking and the troll jogged to catch up to him.

“It’s different with me,” the god said quietly. “You don’t want to have to call on me, because if you do that means shit’s gone south and you’re out of other options.”

Karkat fell silent as he pondered the god’s words. Time was the god of, well, time. And swords. And… destruction. War. The Knight was known as the protector, a shield for those in need. Maybe Time had a point, but…

“What about Doom?” Karkat protested. “The Prince of Heart? They’re both called on in bad times but I don’t ever see them forgotten or left out like this.”

“There’s reasons for that,” Time answered unwillingly.

“Like?” Karkat asked, pressing the issue with a stubbornness unmatched by any other short and nubby-horned mutant troll in all of the lands.

“Can you ride?” Time asked suddenly. A stable squatted at the corner of the town, the soft nickers of horses floated through the air. “It’s a long way to where we’re going.”

Karkat knew the subject change was because he was encroaching on things Time didn’t want to talk about, so he let the subject drop. For now. “Not very well,” The troll admitted. He’d never liked horses.

“Well I completely suck at it, so this should be fun,” The god said, and Karkat felt his eyebrows rise. What god sucked at something so common and easy? Granted, the troll was a terrible rider because horses hated him. Time should have this skill in is back pocket. 

Karkat held back as Time bartered to rent two horses from the stablemaster, a red haired man with a gingery beard who smelled like he’d been sleeping with the beasts. 

Karkat has the misfortune of being stuck with a chestnut mare just as evil tempered about the whole affair as he was. The first thing the horse did was try to bite him in the ass. 

Time’s horse was gray and old, a plodding animal with gentle eyes and a droopy nose. Karkat didn’t see that horse try to bite its rider. 

They left town at a walk, Karkat quickly adjusting to the saddle as Time sat easily, just as good at riding as Karkat thought he would be. Show-off. “You were saying?” The troll prompted. 

Time glanced at him. “What do you know of the gods?” He asked. 

A loaded question for sure. Two days ago he would have argued that they either weren’t real or didn’t care about anything or anyone. Now he thought carefully about his answer. 

“There’s nineteen,” he said. “All different.”

“What’s different about them?”

“Things they stand for, what they’re about,” Karkat answered immediately. “But there’s similarities too.”

“Like?”

“Breath,” he said. “The sign for the Heir and Page is the same. The pattern repeats in pairs. Light to light, space to space.”

“You’ve got the general idea,” Time said. His horse flicked its ear. “What about the extant gods?”

“There’s three,” Karkat answered slowly. He wanted to think about his answers, not just blurt out the first thing that came to mind like he normally did. “All trolls. Mind, Rage, and Doom. They’re the single keepers of their signs.”

Time sighed. “You’re slipping,” he said. “Only 2 out of 3.”

Karkat blinked back his shock. 

“And there’s not nineteen of us,” Time said. “You’re leaving out the last extant god.”

“The Lost God doesn’t exis-” He bit back the words before they left his lips, hyper aware of the literal god beside him. 

Time’s eyes were sad. 

They said nothing else for a long while. 

“Why can’t I remember meeting you before?” Karkat broke the silence with the thing that bothered him most. He might be unsure still of some things, but he knew- he knew, that he had met Time before.

“I don’t know,” Time answered. “But I’ll find out.”

“You called Light sis,” Karkat realized. “And what I think might be her actual name.”

“Much better,” Time nodded approvingly, like this was a game between them. “Light is my twin. Void and Heart are also twins, and my other siblings.”

“Siblings?” Karkat echoed, confused. “But I thought you were never born?” 

“That’s complicated,” Time answered, straightening up in his saddle to look at the troll. “But correct all the same. And who told you I was never born?”

Karkat bit his tongue when he realized he had no idea. More things he knew but should not. 

“You called her Rose,” Karkat continued like Time hadn’t noticed the slip. 

“That’s her name,” Time agreed. “Though only the gods ever really use that name.”

“Does that mean you have a name, Time?” Karkat asked curiously. He’d never thought about the gods having names before, and he was burning to know Time’s. 

“I do,” he answered, smirking. “But I’m not telling you yet. I know you’ll remember it on your own.” 

Fucker. “Can’t I have a hint at least,” The troll asked, deeply curious. 

The god’s red eyes flickered over him. “It’s a stupidly common and boring human name.”

“Jeff,” Karkat said immediately as Time burst out laughing. Karkat’s mare pinned back her ears at the sound, and the god kept laughing. When he was done Karkat was also trying not to laugh and Time leaned back in his saddle, a small grin on his face. 

“It’s unfair that you don’t remember enough to know how hilarious that answer was,” Time complained, still grinning from ear to ear. It was such a nice expression to see him wear that for a second Karkat couldn’t look away. 

“How funny was it?” Karkat asked, prying for anything that might help him remember. 

The god giggled to himself before whispering, “Hella.”

Karkat still didn’t get it, but he let Time have his laugh. He would figure it out on his own. 

“I still don’t get what’s going on,” The troll said quietly. “Time, you are a god. There’s only been a few times in history when a god works directly with a mortal, and I’ve seen both you and Light now and apparently we know each other somehow and all of the other gods are in on this as well and I’m just me. I’m still just a cullbait troll with red blood in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Time looked at him, his horse pulling up alongside his own. “Cullbait?” he said sharply, “Where did you hear that word?”

“I…” Karkat trailed off, trying to remember but coming up oddly blank. Why was the god so interested in some throw away insult? “I don’t know.”

“That word doesn’t exist,” Time said slowly, gauging his reaction. “Not here. Not anymore.”

Karkat strained for a definition and he could feel the meaning behind the word, but it felt out of place. Cullbait. He knew he’d said that before, but he couldn’t remember where or when. Or even how. He just remembered the feeling of fear and desperation, crouching somewhere low, in the dark, begging to stay unseen. The memory itself didn’t make sense. He’d never done that before.

But the memory was there, and the word attached to it. 

“Why do I know that word?” Karkat asked. 

“Karkat,” Time said. “Tell me about the Lost god.”

“What?” The troll said. “Are you even listening?”

“I’m answering your question.”

“Fine,” Karkat scowled. “The Lost god doesn’t exist. He’s a rumor founded on one temple ruin that no one remembers building. He’s not included in Canton’s Great Temple, there’s no holy days associated with him, no religious holidays or followers, and there’s not been a hint of his existence from the other gods.”

“A head priest questioned Kanaya about it once,” Time said. “He wanted to know the truth, and thought wooing her would win Light’s blessing.”

“Who?”

“The Sylph,” Time said. “Five of us visited him that night to answer his questions. He went insane not long after and no one has asked since.”

“So there’s truth in there somewhere,” Karkat guessed. “Did something happen to them? The Lost god?”

“Yes,” Time answered shortly. “Something did.”

He sensed he was pushing too far into things he shouldn’t know. He liked his pan in working order. Insanity didn’t sound appealing. 

Karkat wondered why they were called the Lost god. Lost. What did that mean? Dead? The gods were immortal- they couldn’t be killed. So what did Time mean? 

“What about you?” Karkat asked, changing the subject. “Time. The Knight. God of time, swords, destruction, war, entropy, and the defenseless.”

“No,” Time said at once. “Not war. There is no god of war, holy fuck. That’s something mortals added on because as soon as I gave them weapons they turned them on each other. No god wants war and I hate that they know me as that.”

Wow. Karkat didn’t know how to respond to that. The god sounded so wounded by the title, like it was a physical pain. It sent a pang through the troll's core.

“I’m also the god of irony and sick beats.” Time said, much lighter. “But most people like to only focus on the badass parts.”

All in all the irony part didn’t surprise him. “Sick beats?” He asked slowly.

“They haven’t been invented yet,” The god answered smugly, “But boy when they are I’m fucking ready.”

Why was his life so complicated? “Okay then,” The troll said. “So. Where are we going?”

“The Point,” Time answered. “It’s a sacred place near the capital, kind of like a basecamp where we can all meet up.” 

“All of the gods?”

“Yep,” Time answered. “The cult itself needs to be dealt with before it spreads like plague, and I’d like to know what happened to you and why you can’t remember.”

“It would really help,” Karkat growled, “if I knew what I’m supposed to have forgotten.” 

Time considered him silently. “We played a game together once,” he said. 

Game. That almost sounded familiar. “What kind of game?”

“The greatest game there is, or will ever be.” Time answered. 

Karkat was smart. He knew what the god was leading him to think. “How long ago did we play this game?” He asked. The troll was only eight sweeps old, but the unfamiliar/familiar depth of the ages he felt in glimpses around the Knight of Time made him expect the impossible answer. 

“Over 4,000 years ago,” Time said, carefully watching the troll’s reaction. 

Karkat drew a deep breath. He’d been afraid of this. “Look,” he said. “You’ve made a mistake. I’m not whoever you think I am. They died a long time ago and I’m not sure why we share names, but I’m not him. I’m not whoever you think I am.”

“Yes you are,” Time said simply. “Rose confirmed it.”

“The Seer is wrong,” Karkat said, desperate. “I’m not him. I can’t be. You know that’s impossible.”

“Karkat Vantas,” Time’s voice had changed, grown larger until the air hummed with the buzz of magic. He drew a symbol in the air, the troll’s sign hung between them as a flit of red flame even though Karkat never wore his sign. Magic sung in red rings around them. In the sky above birds hung still. “I know who you are, no matter how much time has passed since we last stood face to face before the final battle.” 

“No,” Karkat denied the god’s words until his sign twisted into a new shape, a diagonal slash weeping like a cut wound. 

At the sight he felt his eyes roll up into his head as screaming filled his ears. He knew that sigil, knew it to his bones, but he couldn’t think of where. His veins were burning. A second sky hung in the air above him, with two moons that shone out of the inky darkness. He blinked and the image vanished.

He slumped in the saddle, his arms shaking beneath the bandages. Time let the rune vanish and flung out an arm to steady him. “Are you alright?” The god asked worriedly. “I didn’t mean to push so far.”

Karkat thought he was going to throw up. Bile coated his mouth as he wheezed. “Holy fuck,” he coughed. “What did you do?”

“I showed you something,” Time said carefully. “Some part of you recognized it. What did you see?”

“Moons,” Karkat whispered. “In a faded sky. Two of them. One was green and one was pink.” Above them in the blue of the sky the moon wasn’t visible, but come tonight and it would show its silver face. Moons couldn’t be green or pink, and there was only one moon. Wasn’t there?

Time nodded. “You’re beginning to remember.”

“Remember fucking what?!” Karkat snapped furiously. A part of him was afraid of Time in that moment, afraid of what the god would say.

“Karkat, you know what,” Time said. “You are the Lost god. I do not know how, but it’s true.”

“Fuck you,” Karkat sneered, fully expecting for the god to strike him down for his words. “I’m not some fucking god Dave. Get it through your dense and probably deluded head- I am not whatever you think I am.”

Time actually had the audacity to smile, a full smile that revealed a chipped lower incisor as he beamed at the troll. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Karkat snarled. 

“You just said my name,” Time answered smugly. 

Karkat blinked at him, mouth hanging open. “Dave?”

Gods that tasted so right in his mouth. He felt another ghost of a memory, a thousand different times that name had left his lips.

“Yeah,” Time, no, Dave, said. “That’s my name.”

Karkat swallowed his tongue. “Are you also the god of putting thoughts into other people’s heads?”

“Nope,” he smiled. “But Vriska is.”

“That’s...” Karkat strained for the answer he suddenly knew he had. It faded just as fast as every other flash, but not before he caught hold of blue and orange. “Thief?”

“You are remembering,” Dave said, his face relieved. “I knew you couldn’t forget about us for long.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Karkat pleaded. “This can’t be happening.”

“We thought you were dead,” Dave said quietly. “I swear, if I had even a hint that you were alive I would have found you sooner. I would have torn this universe apart to find you.”

“Don’t,” Karkat pleaded, his head swimming. He couldn’t handle this. The endless sky was pressing down on him. He was suffocating under the weight of the stars. 

The last thing he remembered was the mare bucking him off as his leg spasmed thoughtlessly into her side as fog filled his head, the ground rushing up to meet him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karkat- *gets thrown from horse*
> 
> God there was so much that happened in this chapter. It was originally two different chapters, but for structure I combined them so sorry about the length. Well now the whole point (pun intended) of the fic is revealed! And rose is here! 
> 
> so many jokes... I had so much fun writing this.


	4. A Breath of fresh Heir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas you filthy Homestucks!
> 
> Here, have a chapter four...

Chapter four. 

Time was sitting by the fire. The light it gave off warmed the side of the troll’s face from where he lay as he slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows. The small campsite was lit and secluded. The horses grazed nearby.

“You’re awake,” The god said, utterly expressionless. “Your horse threw you.”

Shit. He could remember hitting the ground, but nothing after that. His head ached and his ribs felt bruised. "I told you I wasn't a good rider," he said. 

Time shrugged, "Are you hurt?"

Karkat blinked at Dave, ignoring the question. “I’ve been dreaming,” he said. 

Time studied him. The stick he was using to prod into the fire shifted and a lick of sparks flickered upwards. “About what?”

“I can’t remember,” he answered. “What was that thing you showed me before? That symbol?”

“What do you think it means?”

Karkat snorted. “I’m not an idiot,” he snapped. “I might think this is all some big cosmic trick, but I’m not a fucking fool. It’s a godsign.”

It hit him then, proof that this was all impossible. “If I’m reading this right,” the troll said triumphantly, “Then you want me to think that this sigil is mine, but that’s impossible and I can prove it.”

There, the faintest hint of an expression from the god. A slight quirk of the mouth, a tightened upper lip, that was all. “Oh?”

“The gods are the keepers of their aspects,” Karkat answered. “The ‘lost god’ can’t be real because that means an entire aspect of the world is missing, which can’t be true.”

“If I’m right though,” Time battled back with easy logic, “and an aspect was missing, how the hell would you know?”

“That’s a stretch,” Karkat stated. “Either I’m a foolish mortal with no ability to fathom a world other than my current one, or I’m some lost fucking god and it’s a moot point. You can’t have it both ways.”

“But I can,” Dave answered simply. “You need to stop thinking linear.” 

“That’s easy for you to say,” Karkat replied. “You don’t even have a solid plane of existence.”

The wind picked up, blowing woodsmoke over him. The moon was bright enough that it seemed like midday. “Why are we still here?” He asked. “Isn’t there some meeting we need to be at? One with a long journey to get there?”

“Dude,” Dave said, “I am a hero of Time. Deadlines don’t really matter to me. We won’t be late.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’ve told me that before,” Time said, his face still infuriatingly blank. “It was a running joke between us.”

“I bet you’re just loving this,” Karkat snapped, loosing his patience. “You get to trick the mortal and stalk me incessantly, dangling obscure bits of information over my head like carrot sticks on a rope.”

“There’s no trick here,” Dave reminded him. “Karkat it’s really true. You’re really you. And it was never your aspect that was missing. Look down.”

Karkat glanced at the dust from where he’d been tearing up the grass with his claws in frustration to see he’d scratched out the same symbol from before. His pan twitched. He wiped the godsign away with the back of his hand and seethed silently.

“What will it take to prove it?” Dave asked. “Another godly visitation? We’re currently two lonely travelers alone in the wilderness, it’ll take five seconds for me to get John all up in this campfire.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled out into the night, “John! Get your windy ass over here!”

“Don’t!” Karkat warned, his skin crawling as he imagined every beast and raider in earshot turning in their direction. “Something might hear you.”

“That’s kind of the point,” Dave pointed out. 

Karkat didn’t even know which one John was supposed to be. It had to be one of the human gods, and the god of travelers was Heir. Was John Breath? 

Grass cracked, twigs popping as something pushed its way into the firelight of the campsite. A rabbit sat on its haunches and began cleaning its whiskers. 

Definitely Breath. Rabbits were his sacred animal. 

The rabbit hopped closer and dipped its head to nose at the ground. Dave reached over and pulled the wild-ass rabbit into his lap. It flopped happily on its side, the god’s fingers running through the soft brown fur. 

A voice came from nowhere. “I hope that thing bites you.”

“What? Naw you got it all wrong,” Dave answered calmly while Karkat whipped around in vain, trying to locate the speaker. “Me and this rabbit? We’re bros now. BFFsies for life.”

Wind ran through the empty glade, rustling the dry grass. “Is that nubby-horned troll at your side who I think it is?”

“Without a doubt,” Dave said. “Though he’s currently so far in denial I’m surprised he’s still with me and hasn’t run off screaming into the trees.”

Karkat gulped as he felt invisible eyes boring into him. He caught the shimmer of blue dancing over the grass like grounded northern lights. “I am tempted.”

“Karkat?” Breath asked. “Is it really you?”

“I’m me,” he answered grumpily. “Just me.”

The god of Breath was in the campsite. His presence stretched to the stars, up and up and up. Many claimed that Heir was the leader of the gods, god of freedom, of journeys and travelers, of the wind and sky and rain. The god felt different than Time or the Seer. His visitation was light and airy, looming around them like a thunderhead. Karkat felt very small in comparison. 

“Will you take him to the Point for 413?” John asked. The fire flickered in a sudden breeze. “If this is really happening we’ll need to stand together.”

Time dipped his head to the other hidden god. “What will the weather be like? We’re traveling by horse to Canton.”

The Heir laughed. “I’ll make it good,” he promised. “Only light rains for the harvest, and fair weather in between.”

Karkat was beginning to understand why the priest had gone mad. He could stand to bear the bound god of Time’s presence, but Breath was... too much. Endless. Rose has been the same, an elemental force of nature beyond his reck and ken. Energy buzzed at the ties of his pan, unraveling things. 

“I should go,” John said. “I’m only a small fragment of myself here but I don’t want to overwhelm Karkat.”

“Before you go then,” Dave was quick to ask. “You are everywhere. Have you heard about a resurgence of Hemocaste cultists?”

Blue light sparked out of nothing, a flicker of lightning. “I have,” the god answered, sounding angered. “All at once the cities are crawling with them. They targeted one of Tavros’s shrines near the coast, didn’t bother Aradia out of fear I guess, but they burned his church to the ground and threatened his priests and worshipers. No one was hurt, but tempers are rising. People are furious that this happened. They love the Page and Tavros can’t understand why this is happening. He’s one of the best loved of all of us.”

Dave’s brow furrowed. “They hit a temple?”

Karkat felt the energy spike to a painful level as the god’s eyes flashed crimson. He clapped his hands over his ears to ward off the pressure. A horse whinnied shrilly and Dave realized what had happened with a snap. 

The oppression faded. A cool wind blew away the fog. “Rose thinks something should be done,” John said, “something public.”

“Shit,” Dave said. 

“Vriska wants their heads. Sollux urged Tavros to let rabies take the town’s livestock in his name but Dirk talked sense into them. Terezi is pissed and she wants blood.”

“Keep me updated, will you?” Dave asked as Karkat struggled to match names to faces and came up blank. “I’m bound still. I can’t step in to make everyone see sense at the moment.”

“Yeah,” John said. “Jade is upset at you for stepping out like this. Now’s not a good time for you to be bound Dave! We need you.”

“And we need Karkat,” Dave said firmly. 

The breeze picked up again, light and airy with a boundless joy. “I can’t believe it!” John shrieked happily. “It’s been so long but you’re back and everything is better now and we can all be together! Maybe that’s what we need- Karkat back to lead us again! With Blood missing the world is off-balance.”

“Careful,” Dave warned, shooting an anxious glance at Karkat. “Too much and you’ll hurt him.”

Karkat rolled his eyes. He felt fine, just a bit squashed beneath the weight of the stars.

“I should go then,” Breath said, “See you soon!”

The wind dropped away just as suddenly as it had arrived, and Karkat could physically feel the god’s absence as Breath raced off back to the ends of the world.

“Are they all like that?” Karkat asked weakly, feeling overwhelmed.

“Definitely,” Dave answered, smiling. “Don’t worry though, John can be a but enthusiastic but he’s harmless.”

“I’m going back to sleep,” Karkat told him, rolling back over in the grass and pulling the saddleblanket up over his face. “Being knocked unconscious by a insane horse does not count as rest. Wake me when it’s morning.”

…

 

Karkat woke up pissed. He’d had a few hours to stew over what he had learned, and now he was confident he had a good enough grasp on the subject to get angry about it.

The god of Time was still tending the fire. Breakfast was cooking. 

“You,” Karkat coughed as the god’s eyes turned towards him, “are decidedly unhelpful.”

“I beg your pardon?” Dave’s eyebrow quirked up and the troll’s blood began to boil. 

“If I did believe you, which I’m still not so sure about, then there was a game,” Karkat admitted, the words tearing painfully up his throat. “Maybe that much I can swallow.”

“So you remember me now?” Dave asked excitedly. 

“No, I can’t, and its pissing me off!” Karkat snarled, his hands in fists. He wanted to hit something. He couldn’t remember ever being this angry before. “Your utter lack of haste in helping me regain my missing memories is pissing me off!” 

Dave smiled sheepishly, one hand at the back of his neck as he flushed red with embarrassment. “Yeah, you did hate me once upon a time,” he said fondly. 

The god’s lack of a correct response just pissed him off even more. Was that meant to be reassuring? What the fuck?

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?!” Karkat demanded.

“How much do you remember exactly?” Time asked calmly, which made the troll’s blood pressure shoot for the clouds.

“I don’t remember anything,” Karkat said. “Just a sky with some moons that I’m pretty sure was just my hiveshit imagination playing tricks on me.”

“I’m trying to help you remember things,” Dave said, “But you’ve got to start believing in me Karkat. I’m not lying. You played a game with us a long time ago. It’s all true.”

“You motherfucker,” Karkat growled, baring his teeth. “This is insane! I don’t even have words to describe how insane that sounds and I know it’s only 2% of whatever story you’re trying to tell me and already my head feels like it’s going to explode! How much of the story am I missing?”

“You’re still in the beginning.” Dave told him. “Page zero. There’s so much that happened.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Karkat muttered to himself. “None of this makes sense.”

“I’ll tell you more, when we ride,” Dave offered. “We should get going soon. The crows say there’s bandits in these trees.”

“So you can talk to crows now?” Karkat snapped angrily. 

“Yes.”

“Of fucking course you can,” the troll grumbled, angrily shoving his blanket into a roll as he stomped off to wake up his devil of a mare, who screamed at him for the effort and again tried to bite.

He swore at the horse, loudly and passionately, until Dave came up behind him. “Having trouble?”

Time’s horse was calm and easy, blinking steadily at them with a welcoming nicker. The beastly mare pinned back her ears and turned to kick. 

“My horse is broken,” Karkat stated. 

“Naw,” Dave said. “Nonsense. She’s just not a morning person.” He tried to pet the mare, who barely tolerated the god’s hand. When Karkat repeated the movement he had to snatch his fingers away when her head darted around to grab at him with her flat teeth. 

“I think she doesn’t like you,” Dave pointed out. 

“Holy fuck Dave, you’re a genius,” Karkat let sarcasm drip from his voice. “If I ride this thing for another day she’ll kill me.” He’d been lucky enough that getting thrown before hadn’t broken anything important. 

“Do you have a horse amulet?” Dave asked curiously. 

Karkat eyed the god with narrowed eyes. “Are you saying that would work?”

“If It were real,” Dave nodded. 

“Tavros, right?” Karkat said. “The Page of Breath?” John had mentioned him last night, so he was sure this was one name he had right.

“God of livestock and horsemanship, with a few other things,” Dave confirmed. “Though not the god of horses. That’s Equius. Big fight over that in the beginning.”

“No I do not have a horse amulet,” Karkat gritted from between his teeth. “Can’t you help?”

“Nope,” Dave said, shrugging. “I could go back in time and punch whoever broke her in on the nose, but horses are not my area of godly expertise.”

Karkat rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“So,” Dave asked. “What will you do?”

“What are you trying and failing to lead me to do?” Karkat challenged, fed up with Dave’s prompting bullshit.

The god shrugged again and Karkat felt twitchy. He wanted to hit someone, preferably Dave.

“Now I’m no expert,” Time said, “but normally wouldn’t one pray to and or invoke the Page for a half feral and singularly murderous horse?”

Karkat wasn’t sure. He’d never booked much faith in the god’s except to try to avoid cursing at them outright. He’d won no favor and he had no training. People studied the art of worship for years, crawled on their bellies and dug through tomes about their patron god, they wore their hands raw prostrating themselves before the altar before ever receiving a scrap of the god’s help. He didn’t know the right words or phrases, no holy chants or runes. The Page of Breath wasn’t even a god he’d given much thought to before now. 

What if he messed up? There were rules for this sort of thing, rules that couldn’t be broken, and he was being closely watched by the god of Time, who did nothing and offered no help. Useless good for nothing goddamn Time god. 

He remembered the easy way Time had addressed Light and Breath, the utter lack of formalities used, and he felt a tad better. He knew that somehow, Dave was testing him.

He wasn’t going to fail. 

Karkat let himself speak before he could overthink things too much. “Uh, Page,” he said aloud to the empty air, feeling his ears burn with embarrassment. “A little help here?”

For a second nothing happened, then a playful breeze brushed past the campsite and teased fingers of wind through the mare’s gingery mane. Her ears stood erect and alert, then relaxed as the godsign for Breath glowed blue from her haunch before dissipating. 

Dave let out a low whistle as the mare visibly relaxed. Her ears straightened and the coiled kick flowed out of her rear leg. She stood calmly and patiently under the saddle, tail swishing at errant flies. 

Karkat cautiously patted the horse, ready to snatch his hand away if she bit. Instead the animal nuzzled into his hand and lipped harmlessly at his clawed fingers as he wondered if that had actually just happened. Clerics trained and prayed for years before they could even hope to have a god answer them so readily. 

“Sweet,” Dave said, completely unimpressed with the miracle. “Now I don’t have to worry about you getting your ass bucked off again.”

“Oh fuck you,” Karkat said, not really paying attention to the other god as he listened into the wind. For all that he’d been traveling with the Knight of Time, the troll had never really considered himself special or blessed. Dave deciding to follow him was just the god being unknowable and irascible and most likely delusional. This... this was different. He’d never had a prayer answered before, and certainly not so instantly and visibly. 

“Page of Breath?” He asked, surprisingly tentative. “God of animals and livestock and the disabled.”

“That’s him,” Dave confirmed. “He’s also the god of self-worth and journeys of both physical and personal origin. Plus he’s the friend of underdogs everywhere. He’s a great dude once you get to know him."

Karkat nodded wordlessly as he pulled himself up into the saddle. The two gods of Breath were popular and well loved. It made a trace of anger burn through him at the thought of highblood cultist fucks attacking a temple. He might not have been overly religious, but he was learning that maybe he’d been wrong about the gods. 

Maybe they did care. Dave certainly did, for all that he was known as the most unknown of all the gods, even more so than the gods of Void. Time was… something. Something else. 

Karkat let his horse carry him alongside of Dave as they set a brisk pace. “Hey Dave,” He asked. “Why did that just work? I’m not a cleric and I’m sure the Page isn’t my patron god, if I even have one of those. Why?”

Time shrugged. “I’ll let you in on a little secret Karkat,” he said. “Now that I’ve found you and everyone knows you’re not dead you just gained the highest favor of us all.” The god paused thoughtfully, “or most of us at least.”

Karkat froze so hard that his horse pulled up short under him as his legs locked. No fucking way. 

“You’re full of shit,” Karkat said as the feeling slowly returned to his limbs. “Impossible.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I’m not even fucking faithful,” he said desperately. “I don’t even worship.”

“Do you believe thought?” Dave asked him and Karkat laughed helplessly. 

“Time,” he said, “you’re riding alongside me right now. Of course I believe you exist.”

“Not what I was asking, but okay,” The god said. “You’ll believe me soon.”

He sounded so sure of it, his eyes not even flickering over to the troll. Karkat’s gut tightened uncomfortably against the whispers in his head. He couldn’t be a god. He couldn’t. 

“Tell me about the Lost god,” Karkat said. He forced himself to sound steady, even though he was tensing like he expected a blow to land.

Time spared him a searching glance. “Are you sure?”

Karkat snorted. “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” he said. “But if you have answers, I’d like to hear them.” Karkat gave his head a hard shake, trying to dislodge any new memories. All he did was send a sharp bolt of pain shooting up his sore neck from where he’d landed funny after his mare threw him. He winced. 

Dave looked concerned. “That’s what I was afraid of,” he said, misinterpreting the source of the sudden discomfort. He looked away again. “I can’t push you too hard.”

“Refusing to answer only makes my suspicions grow,” Karkat warned. That earned him a small smile. 

“Not yet,” Dave comprised. “I’ll get you to Terezi first. We’ll see what she can pull out of your head before I try anything else.” The god gave the troll a goofy smile that made his heart ache. “I’d hate to have your brain melt out your ears.”

Karkat shrugged off his irritation. His emotions were conflicted. “The Seer?” He asked. 

Dave spurred his horse forward in a gallop and Karkat caught his words in a snatch of air as he raced forward to follow. 

“Yep,” Dave panted, hooves thundering beneath him as they ate the miles of dusty road. “And I know exactly where to find her.”

End of Part One.

: )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet more worldbuilding info you say? Also John so much yes.
> 
> Reminder: Everything is important. Words mean things.
> 
> And yes this is the end of part one. There will be three parts, and I'll wait until after the holidays to post the next chapter because its christmas and i'm still finalizing a few things in part two. I think this sets the stage for the story to really get started. hehehehehehehehehehehe


	5. A Sharp Mind for Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years!!! Its my birthday (21st) so have a new chapter while I mix myself the strongest possible drink. May 2017 burn in hell and 2018 give us time to heal from the unmitigated shitstorm that was the previous year. #rip2017
> 
> Let's get Part Two started...

Chapter one, part two. 

The young Legislacerator stood behind the stand as the courtblock held her in judgement. 

The boney hands of His Honorable Persecutor shuffled through the documents and recorded accusations given to him by the prosecutioners as he peered at her, all alone in her defense. The prosecutioners haughtily raised hands in early victory. She had no evidence, no witnesses, and no options. Their case was about to be sealed. 

“Legislacerator Torell,” HHP said sternly, “Have you any witness in your defense? Any proof at all of your innocence?”

Torell straightened her broad shoulders and stared down her opponents without fear. “No, I do not, your Honor,” she admitted. 

“Very well then,” the Prosecutor said, raising his gavel as the rival Legislacerators shared looks of triumph, “Neophyte Legislacerator Pyrene Torell, on the charges of high treason, perjury, falsification of legal documents, among any other assembled charges, the court finds you-”

“I did not say,” Torell said firmly, “That I had waved my right to a legal defense.”

From the courtblock, titters. The prosecutioners hid expressions of amusement as HHP regarded the young neophyte. “Miss,” he said, “By your own admittance, you lack any means by which to provide the courtblock with proof of your innocence. As the law states we must find you-”

“I myself will provide a means of defense,” the blueblooded troll said, “By employing the honored tradition of et eligere domine lustitae.”

HHP lifted his grizzled eyebrows while her accusers scoffed.

“That amendment to the law is outdated,” the lead prosecutioner objected as his clients exchanged raised eyebrows.

“But,” His Honorable Prosecutor said, “It is the Law, and the Law states that any legislacerator may evoke this traditional defense, as I’m sure you remember, Neophyte Burnen.” 

The troll sat back down in his seat, slowly and unwillingly. Several of his fellows looked nervous at the change, but none spoke up. The attending crowd remained silent from the floor. No one would protest this call for spiritual aide.

“Miss, are you sure?” His Honorable Prosecutor asked. “There is no guarantee of success, and if you fail we must show no mercy.”

“I am sure,” she answered. “I am well aware of the risks and of the Law.”

“Have you completed the pre-call prayers?” He inquired of her. “And the proper temple rituals?”

Torell bowed her head. “I have.”

“Then you may begin,” HHP said, “And may the Seer have pity for one of her own.” The gavel fell with a crack that echoed throughout the courtblock.

Torell took a deep breath. “To the Persecutor’s stand,” she said, an uncertain waver in her voice, “I call the Seer of Mind.”

The courtblock held its breath for several seconds. Torell held onto her hope until the seconds began to drag on with no change.

After a full minute, the HHP raised his gavel again as Torell stared blankly ahead, “Very well,” he said, not unkindly. “In failing to invoke the Seer, this courtblock is forced to find you-”

The double doors of the courtblock burst open with explosive clangs. A lone figure strode in, and the prosecutioners fell back before her as shocked gasps filled the room. Each time the Seer’s feet touched the ground the godsign of Mind would flare to life beneath it. The burning green sigils lingered and pulsed as the god walked up to the stand. She left a trail of power behind her.

A red ribbon bound her eyes, and she wore a long robe of green that matched her godsign. Across her chest the symbol for mind burned and throbbed as runes raced up along the walls until the entire courtblock hummed with energy.

“It has been several decades since anyone has dared to call me to the stand like this,” the god of Mind said, “I hope this case is worthy.” The warning in the god’s voice was ringing, and Torell dipped her head.  
“I believe it is, Seer,” she said, and the god held out a hand as her cane materialized. She brought it down with a clack as His Honorable Prosecutor relieved himself of his stand reverently.

The god took the seat of judgement as the entire room gaped openly at her in shock and awe and fear. “Before we begin,” the god said, “I’d advise any guilty persons to come forward at this time and admit their guilt. This is all of the mercy you will get, and I’d advise you take it.”

Silence met her words and the god nodded, pleased. “We may begin,” she said, and the ribbon melted from her blind eyes. She replaced it a second later with red tinted glasses as her outfit changed into the red and teal suit of the highest member of the Cruelest Bar. “The Seer of Mind is now in command of this courtblock and of this case,” she said. “There will be no leaving the room until I come to my decision.” The godsign of Mind flared to life across the double doors, locking them securely as all other runes vanished and left the courtblock looking mostly ordinary again. The god took a deep sniff of the air and grinned viciously. “And I smell sins.”

“You,” Mind ordered, whipping her head at the lead prosecutioner, “State what grounds you accuse the defendant of.”

Burnen jumped to his feet, shuffling papers that suddenly appeared on the Seer’s desk. She ran her gloved fingers over them as he repeated his case. “Neophyte Legislacerator Pyrene Torell stands accused of insidious plotting, unsanctioned cahoots, falsification of legal documents, aiding and abetting the escape of known criminals, and treason most high against the judicial system itself.”

“Quite a rapsheet,” Mind winked at Torell, “And in your defense?”

The young Legislacerator stood her ground, bowing her head in deference to her god. “Seer,” she said, “I have been painted and groomed to take the fall of others to hide their guilt. I caught wind of this foul plot a sweep ago and stockpiled numerous documents proving the collaboration of several senior Legislacerators to bypass the Law and twist it for their own personal gain. They flipped on me before I could come forward with my case and pin all blame of the department’s recent failures and hijinks on my head.”

“These documents you speak of,” Mind asked, her blind eyes keen, “Have you not come forward with them?” 

Torell dipped her head. “No, My Lady. After my arrest all of my files went up in flames in a fire that took my hive.”

“So having no proof of personal innocence or of this ‘insidious plot’ you speak of, you called me onto your case in a desperate and hopeful bid to save your neck from the noose?” Mind asked. Torell nodded her chin and the god smiled. “I think I like you,” she said. “Never roll over and accept your fate. This fire smells convenient to me. Too convenient.”

Legislacerator Burnen spoke. “Seer,” he said respectfully, “If you will look at the documents I have provided I’m sure-”

“Look at?” the Seer of Mind asked slowly and the bronzeblooded troll’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he realized his mistake.

“S, sniff at,” he hastily corrected himself as the god cackled.

“No need,” Mind said. “I have gone over every scrap of evidence shown in this case, and I find it… lacking.” 

Burnen dipped his head, his cheeks bronzed. 

“You are the prosecutioner for the entire department, are you not?” Mind asked.

“I am,” he answered.

“And,” Mind continued, her face unflinching and joyless, “In discovering the defendant’s claims to innocence lie in a plot against several senior members of your own department, all the proof of which was torched the day of her arrest, did you not stop to think of how convenient that was?”

“I did, my Lady,” he said, “But her claims were outrageous.”

“Are they?” Mind asked. “I think one of our own deserves a second look, don’t you agree?”

Burnen, cowed, bowed his head.

“I call Torell to the witness’ stand,” Mind ordered.

The blueblooded troll took the stand and the Seer wasted no time. “What plot do you claim was pinned on you?”

“My superiors have been lining their pockets with bribes from the accused,” Torell stated clearly. “With money in their hands they shift the courtblock into finding the guilty innocent and the innocent are condemned wrongly. They play with the Law and ignore your words, Mind.”

Burnen scrambled for a defense, but Mind cut him off. “I want to see these superior officers.” 

Two trolls and two humans stood from the row of prosecutioners and walked onto the floor. Each one of them looked distinctly uncomfortable, or outright terrified. 

“Legislacerators Rennik, Dualon, Farriday, and Jones,” Mind said. “You’ve just been accused of betraying your department and the sacred order you have sworn your life to serve. What do you say in your defense?”

“Shifting blame will not hide the fact that neophyte Torell was out of line,” one of them said, “Mind, I implore you to not be taken with such ridiculous claims.”

“Oh, trust me,” Mind said, her face cold. “I can read the minds of everyone in this courtblock. I already know the truth and where the guilty party stands. I always know the liars, I can assure you of that, Farriday.”

The woman bowed her head and her fingers were in tight fists at her sides.

The god raised her voice. “I am not the god of truth,” Mind said. “I am the god of justice and the Law. Torell, Burnen, unless either of you can prove or disprove one another, I will be forced to call this courtblock gridlocked.”

“Wait!” Burnen said, “I can prove my case and color beyond a doubt Torell’s guilt.” He straightened his documents and began to recite. “In the second bi-lunar season, in the fourth month of the year, Pyrene Torell began dropping off sums of money into an account held in her name at the City Bank. Each month bank records show that the same amount was deposited. Where did these mystery funds come from if they were not bribes?”

“I object,” Torell interrupted quickly, “I never held that account. I only knew of its existence after my arrest. Whoever opened it in my name was not me.”

“Torell also was caught snooping around Legislacerator Jones’ officeblock,” Burnen said, “Looking for evidence with which to incriminate him in the case that her ruse was discovered.”

“I was there looking for evidence of tampering,” Torell defended herself. “Jones routinely changed evidence to fit whatever verdict he wanted the jury and the HHP to come to.”

“Circles within circles!” Mind said, “Tell me what I need to hear to blow this case wide open or admit that both sides are flawed badly enough that no legal solution can be found until more evidence appears.”

“But Mind,” Burnen protested, “My case can clearly show that the guilt lies with Torell.”

“I’m ruling all of your evidence as circumstantial,” Mind deadpanned. Burnen’s mouth fell open, and it was slow to close again as the Seer leaned forward. “Here are the facts. Someone has been pulling sly tricks in this department, resulting in the uncalled for deaths of innocents. While Torell cannot yet prove her story, neither can Burnen prove within the extent of the Law that Torell is guilty. Until this changes I’ll be forced to disband this courtblock until the truth can be found.”

“But Mind, you know the truth,” Torell said, confused.

“I do,” the Seer said, surprisingly gentle, “But I do not solve these cases for you. There must be a balance between justice and the Law, and me walking in and immediately pointing out the truth will solve nothing. I’m in the business of making better Legislacerators, so I’d bid you to think. There’s a way to prove everything, if you’re clever enough for it. As dearly as I want to see the guilty party swing, I will abide by the rules for et eligere domine lustitae, rules that I wrote.” The god considered the pair of Legislacerators before her. “I can remove what impedes the truth from being found, but I will not overstep the bounds of the Law I created.”

“I call Legislacerator Rennik to the stand!” Torell said, her voice short and desperate. The Seer began to smile.

Rennik stood.

“I object!” Burnen called out.

“On what means?” Mind asked him.

“Rennik was never listed on the witness roll,” Burnen said. “It would violate the terms of the witness stand.”

“Rennik is a core member of the department,” Torell explained. “He stands in the middle of the conspiracy and he alone can be made to shed some light onto it.”

“Rennik,” Mind decided. “You will witness.”

The troll swallowed thickly. “As you wish, Mind,” he said. He was a short troll, an oliveblood with spike horns similar to the Seer’s own.

The troll took the witness’ sand and held up his hand without prompting. “I, Daerea Rennik, Legislacerator for the Camp Lake department, do swear to uphold the moral codes as I have so sworn them, and to tell only the truth when called upon as ordered by the Seer of Mind.”

The Seer nodded as she accepted his oath. “Torell,” she said, “You may begin.”

“Legislacerator Rennik,” Torell said, addressing her witness head-on. “You are in charge of the department’s finances, are you not?”

“I am,” he answered.

“Did you note the missing funds from department accounts within the last few perigrees?”

“I did note them,” he admitted, his claws tapping on the wooden bar of the stand.

“Did you think them suspicious?” Torell asked, staring him down.

“I thought a mistake was being made,” Rennik said with a sharp glance at the Seer. Mind was watching him like a hawk watches a mouse, but the god said nothing.

“Rennik, I’ll be blunt,” Torell said, sensing what mental game was afoot, “Do you think that I did what I am accused of?”

“I know for a fact that you are guilty of several counts as charged,” Rennik said calmly.

“Name them,” Torell ordered, her face hard.

“Objection,” Burnen tried again, “I fail to see why this is important. Guilt is guilt.”

“I’ll agree to that,” Mind said, looking like she was enjoying herself. “Guilt is indeed guilt. Rennik, disregard that order.”

He inclined his head as Torell tried again. “Rennik, do you know of a plot to incriminate me under false circumstances?”

The Legislacerator froze. “I do not,” he answered.

The seal for Mind appeared over his mouth as the troll hit the ground, where he seized violently in a silent scream for several long seconds where no one dared to come to his aid. He lay gasping, chest heaving, until he managed to drag himself back upright. His shirt was wrinkled and smudged from his convulsions of the floor, and he wiped away spit from his lips.

Mind brought down her cane with a hard clack. There was no joy left in her face. “The next time you lie while on the witness’ stand,” she promised, “the Maid of Time herself will have to beg me to let you die, am I understood?” Her voice was glacial cold, and it hummed with power and anger.

Rennik, still shaking, agreed wordlessly as the Seer raised her voice. “This courtblock is a holy place, as are all of my courtblocks. I expect them to be respected just as must as any of my temples, and I will not stand for having oaths of truth broken by anyone behind the witness’ stand, much less from a Legislacerator who should have known better.” 

The troll visibly flinched back from the god’s words, and Torell, newly emboldened, went in for the kill. “Legislacerator Rennik, were you the one that opened that account at the city bank and did you do so in my name to incriminate me? Yes or no, if you please.”

He looked at Mind. She stared coldly back, her blinded eyes unreadable beneath her red glasses. The Seer of Mind was not known for her mercy and the god did not look forgiving. He did not dare to lie again.

“Yes, it was me,” he admitted.

Burnen inhaled sharply in a hiss and Torell continued mercilessly. “Are Jones, Farriday, and Dualon also in cahoots with you? Have the four of you been manipulating the Law to line your own pockets?”

“No,” Gasped Rennik, “Not I. I only opened the account and kept the papers in order. I resisted them, I swear it!” He wasn’t looking at the defendant. His pleading gaze was all for Mind.

Torell grinned in triumph as Mind stood, her every sharp angle tight with anger.

“But you knew all along and you did nothing,” the Seer said furiously, “You stood by and let innocents hang. You let them frame a fellow Legislacerator and would have done nothing to stop her unjust death from happening.” Green light flickered through the air around her. It swarmed through the air to shroud the god until her form blurred. The red fire of her eyes burned out from the mist. 

“If I resisted,” Rennik said slowly, his broken voice cracking, “Then I would have stood as the traitor in her place.”

“So you acted only to save your own neck,” Mind accused him relentlessly. She towered over the courtblock. She overflowed the HHP’s stand. “I can’t fault you for wanting to live, but can you truly say that if the threat of death had been lessened that you would have turned on them yourself?”

He looked away. “No, my Lady,” he admitted. “I can’t say that.”

“Why?”

“I was afraid,” he said. “I was afraid.”

The Seer of Mind raised her cane. “Let it be known,” she said, “that neophyte Pyrene Torell is innocent of betraying the order of Legislacerators. She is pardoned of all other charges and is to be known as both hero and victim. As for the four of you,” she said as they gasped and stood tall with shock, “I made it known in the beginning that if you did not come forward you would receive no mercy. By these crimes, in accordance to the Law, you will be hanged by the neck until dead. But first, I want it known the real reason we stand here today. Legislacerator Dualon, step forward.”

The seadweller stepped forward, his face twisted into a sneer.

“Tell the court why you masterminded this entire insidious affair,” Mind ordered, “Remember who you stand before and let your last words ring clearly.”

“I was raising funds,” he said. There was a growl embedded deep in his voice and his eyes were challenging. 

“For what?” Mind asked, her hands in fists.

“For the overthrow of this country’s government and the furthering of our own doctrine.” Dualon said, bold with the fearlessness of the doomed. “The bribes all went to making sure that lowbloods swung while their betters walked free.”

Rennik gasped again while Legislacerator Burnen stood flabbergasted, breathless with shock as his clients admitted their guilt. 

“Cultist,” Mind sneered the insult, unsurprised and growing enraged. “Tell me the name of your boss,” the Seer ordered.

“Never,” he said, finned ears flared. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

“I will rip the information from your mind by force,” the god swore, her claws cutting deep gorges out of the wood of the judgement stand. “I’ve had enough of your highblooded bullshit. Did you think I didn’t know what you were up to? Did you think I was unaware of your cult or its plans?” The god of Mind growled and he sound echoed as if it came from every corner of the room. “Here’s how I sentence you, you fucking disrespectful hemocaste cultists,” the Seer said, and she brought down her cane one last time. The clack landed with a finality, and vivid light sparked into existence.

Rope appeared around Jones’, Farriday’s, and Rennik’s throats as they were drawn upwards by nooses that suddenly sprouted from the rafters of the courtblock. The rope moved like snakes and struck just as swiftly. Rennik’s neck broke while the other two strangled, feet kicking as they clawed, futile, at where death crushed their windpipes.

Dualon stood his ground, fangs bared at the god even as his companions swung from the ceiling. “We will rise,” he said, “Not even a god can stop what we have started.”

Mind floated down to where he was as if she were made of air and punched him solidly across the nose. Violet blood exploded outwards in a fountain, and she held her swordcane to his neck and let the blade kiss a thin line across.

The seadweller reeled away when she released him, clutched the small wound. The god brought the blade to her mouth and licked a stripe of violet off of her swordcane. She spat the taste out like it was sour.

“You there,” Mind snarled the order at the persecutioners still in the crowd, “Arrest this one. I want his execution public. Let the gallows have him until only bones are left. I’ll attend the event myself, and I want it big. I want everyone in the city to see what happens to hemocaste cultists,” she said, and several jumped obediently forward to chain the stunned and bleeding seadweller’s hands.

“Someone else get these three scumbags out of my courtblock,” she ordered, and the snakelike nooses vanished. The still bodies crashed to the floor and broke limbs in the fall. They lay like ragdolls with swollen tongues and bloodshot eyes. One hit a table on the way down and collapsed it, bleeding everywhere from her cracked skull. “I won’t have filth like them in my holy places.”

The double doors burst open just as everyone was scrambling to obey the furious god’s orders. The magical lock fractured inward, cut through with lines of red as the lock rusted away. A slim shouldered man walked in, human, unarmed and empty-handed. His hair was deathly pale and he glanced emotionlessly at the bodies on the ground.

“Goddamn,” he said. “Looks like I missed all the fun.”

A troll with nubby horns walked in and stood uncertainly behind him, eyes on the god of Mind where she still floated in the middle of her courtblock like the wraith of justice.

Her face split into a very toothy grin. “Dave,” she said, “I was wondering when you would show your face here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know that this chapter does nothing for the plot but advance some cultist bullshit and show Terezi living out her dream as the head of her own police cult but the whole thing reads like some kind of courtblock drama and it was such a blast to write I have no regrets no regrets at all.
> 
> Now back to the plot....


	6. A Mind full of Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heck yeah new chapter!
> 
> Anyway an ice storm is about to kill my entire state so i'll probably lose internet for a few days so if i'm not answering comments or miss the next update time that's why. Sorry guys, but I cannot fight the weather. It's probably not going to be that bad so I might not lose internet at all, but i'm just playing it safe while I stockpile all of these next chapters.
> 
> :)

Chapter two.

The Seer of Mind ordered her courtblock cleared of all people other than the three of them. Karkat waited silently as three dead bodied in various states of mangled were carried out. Mind was cleaning violet blood off of her sword when the doors locked again and left the courtblock empty of anyone other than them.

It was almost like the start of some sick joke. The god of Mind and the god of Time walked into a courtblock…

“Terezi,” Dave greeted her warmly. “What exactly have you been up to?”

She laughed, all sharp angles and teeth. There was something vicious and reptilian about her, a coiled predator dressed in smoke and teal. “Hunting down more hemocaste cultists,” she said, frowning as a strange look ghosted over her features. “They’ve even infected my Legislacerators, and I always thought them immune. Clearly we waited too long to act, now they’re everywhere.” 

“I thought we were waiting to act until after we discussed the matter on 413?” Time asked pointedly.

Mind shrugged. “One of my Legislacerators called on me to oversee a case than happened to include cultist bullshit,” she said. “I couldn’t ignore such a sweet opportunity for justice. And relax, I saved the ringleader for a public execution. I’ll make a great example out of him.”

“More like a martyr,” Dave said, frowning seriously. “Public executions are never the right answer.”

Something about that made an odd twinge run down Karkat’s spine. The Seer sniffed at the air. “Do I smell cherries?” She asked, looking directly at where the troll stood. He felt like an insect pinned in place. Mind was a jagged creature, less normal, less… contained, than the others he’d met so far.

Mind wasn’t even trying to blend in or obscure parts of her incorporeal form and power. She reveled in the shivers that her swelling presence sent down the troll’s spine.

“Hey,” he said, offended and covering up his unease the best way he knew how- with brash bravado and cursing. “I do not smell like fucking cherries.”

She cackled, and for a second her teeth were sharper than any teeth should have been, then Karkat blinked and her face was mostly normal again. “Oh Karkat, I’ve missed you,” she said, walking closer as he bristled. “Rose said I should be expecting a visit, but I was imagining you’d go to a temple.”

Dave snorted, at ease with the other god. He had that look on his face again, like he knew he was with problematic friends but friends all the same. He looked thankful, damn him. “It’s more likely to find you in a courtblock than a temple these days,” he said, lightly teasing Mind.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Terezi shot back good-naturedly, “I hear that our nubby-horned friend can’t remember a thing about what happened.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Dave answered. “Can you check him out for me?”

The Seer cocked her head to the side. “I’m deeply curious about what’s going on myself,” she said. “Can’t you feel it Dave? Something is about to happen.”

Dave’s face crashed shut again, mask in place. “No,” Time said. “Nothing is about to happen. We already finished our Things Happening bit, or did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget,” she answered, already cackling. “But Karkat surely fucking did.”

He resisted his urge to growl at the god. There was something about the god of Mind that made her seem sharper than the others he’d met so far. He didn’t think she’d be as forgiving as Rose or John, especially when she set her bloodied sword away and nodded.

“Alright,” she said, addressing Karkat as her Legislacerator’s garb melted into the robes of a Seer. He could see the similarities to Light in the two outfits, but they were slim and far between. “Karkat, may I dive into what’s going on in your thinkpan?”

He was nervous and distrusting, but Dave seemed to think it was okay and he really, really wanted to understand what was going on. Karkat wanted his memories back so much it hurt.

“Sure,” he said. “You can.”

The Seer of Mind didn’t touch him like Rose did, gentle and light. She seized him, one hand clamping down on each temple so that her thumb claws splayed against his forehead. Her boney fingers were cold as ice and tingled with a there/not there feeling that came from being insubstantial.

“Now,” Terezi said, her blind red eyes staring directly through him from only a handful of inches away. “This won’t hurt, but it’s probably going to knock you out.”

“What?” he asked, then a lance pierced his mind and his eyes rolled up into his head as he collapsed.

He lost his body. He was unmoored and cast adrift. He was a feather in the wind.

Karkat was floating in darkness, and Terezi was there with him.

“Well,” she said, her slim form standing at his side. “It smells dark in here.”

“Where am I?” Karkat demanded, trying not to freak the fuck out and failing spectacularly. The vastness of the empty space around him was unnerving. There was no sky. There were no walls. He wasn’t even sure if he was standing on anything. It was all just shadow. 

The Seer stared at him. “We’re in your mind,” she said. “And in here you see what I want you to see.”

The darkness shifted, bleeding with colors and shapes until he was in a hive he had never seen before. Out the small window a sea of stars slid by. “Where is this?” He asked, spinning around to take in the strange place. “I’ve never been here.”

“This is the meteor’s communal livingblock,” Terezi said, still sniffing like a bloodhound. “And it’s not your memory. It’s mine.”

“Why are you showing me this?” Karkat asked as the floor shook under his feet. What the fuck was a meteor? 

Terezi rolled her eyes. “I had to put you somewhere,” she said. “Wandering through the inner depths of your own subconscious can break a mortal. You’ll be safe in this memory I made for you.”

“Safe from what?” he asked, confused as fuck. This was his own mind, what was there to be afraid of? Embarrassing wrigglerhood memories? He could take it. 

“Yourself,” Terezi answered seriously. “You could easily get lost, here in your own head.”

He kept quiet, aware of just how out of his league he was. The Seer held up her hand and her godsign appeared in the air, pulsing green. It spun like a compass, pointing through the wall at whatever she was looking for. 

“I’m going to poke around,” she said, “Stay here. Don’t open any doors.”

Karkat opened his mouth to ask why, but the Seer was already gone. He kicked the floor of the odd hiveblock in frustration at being abandoned in his own head. The room was spacious, lived-in. A red couch drew his eye and made a murmur of heat burn down his chest at the sight. The room was, somehow, mostly metal. The walls hung with metal and wires and pipes he couldn’t tell the reason for. A soft glow of light came from an object in the corner, like glass with fire trapped inside. He put his hand carefully over the small orb and it didn’t burn his skin.

What the fuck was all this stuff? He took his hand away and squinted suspiciously at the magic lightball. 

He sat on the red couch and tried to convince himself that nothing in this room was familiar. The potted plant in the corner wasn’t familiar. Neither was the way the floor hummed under his feet and ratted up through his breastbone. His broken memories twitched, and he stared out at the stars through the window until he tasted bile.

He was all alone in the room, surrounded by metal machines that hummed from inside the walls and he suddenly wanted Dave with him so much that the surging feeling rushed up his throat and choked him breathless. He blamed the couch and shoved the feeling back down.

He couldn’t count how long it took. A minute, an hour. It was all the same. The Seer’s voice rang around him from everywhere. “Hang on Karkat,” Terezi said, “Let’s get you back now.”

This time, when the darkness fell across his vision it hit like a uppercut and knocked him down so hard that his head rang and turned on itself so that when he opened his eyes he saw the rafters of the courtblock again. Dave was leaning over him, his open expression anxious and hopeful.

Karkat rolled onto his side and immediately threw up from vertigo. 

While he was hacking up the total contents of his digestive sack Terezi said, “Sorry Karkat, that can happen. It’ll pass in a moment.”

“Are you alright?” Dave asked, helping him sit upright again as he wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand. It felt like someone had shoved an ice pick between his ears and he couldn’t help but feel shame at the pool of vomit on the floor. Gods, his head hurt.

“Yeah,” he answered, swallowing. “I’m a bit dizzy though.”

Dave turned to Mind. “Terezi, what did you find?”

The god of Mind was leaning against the witness’ stand, her hands crossed. Her face was serious. “There is a hole in his mind,” she said, looking slowly at Karkat. “A huge fucking gape of a hole. A hole big enough that you could set the world inside of it and still have space left over.”

“But his memories,” Dave pushed, “What happened to them?”

Karkat was still thinking about the massive fucking hole apparently squatting in the center of his head. A few lost memories were so not the issue at the moment. The migraine flared and sent a bolt of pain down his spine.

She set her cane against the floor. “They’re nowhere I could find them,” she said. “So they must have been consumed by the hole, if they’re still there at all.”

“What fucking hole?” Karkat snapped, short of breath still. “There is no hole. My thinkpan is fine.”

Terezi gave him a sad look. “You made this hole Karkat,” she said. “You hid your memories inside of a void of desperate non-existence so huge and so hungry that not even I can bring them back out again.”

“Why?” he asked, demanding. “I want to remember.”

“He’s been remembering things on his own,” Dave said helpfully. He held two fingers an inch apart. “Small things.”

The Seer nodded. “He will continue to reclaim the memories on his own then,” she said. “That’s probably a good thing. If I could give them back all at once it would probably melt his pan out of his ears.”

“So that’s it?” Karkat asked, growing angry now. “That’s all you can tell me.”

“Yes,” she said. “Karkat, I know facades better than anyone. This false identity you’ve been living as for the last eight sweeps was of your own design. To forcefully dismantle it against your will would kill you.”

“It’s not against my will if I ask you to do it,” Karkat argued. 

She laughed, and this time there was no cackle in it. It sounded true. “If you wanted your memories back then you would have them without my help,” she said. “You need to come to terms with yourself, with who you are, before your mind can be how it’s meant to be. This hole you’ve carved out- it’s self-defense.”

Self-defense. That sounded familiar, like another gone thing he could feel hiding in his head. “You’re not telling me that Dave is right about me being a god,” he said, exasperated and slightly sick with not knowing.

Terezi gave him a razor smile. “That,” she said, “sounds like the only truth you’ve told me so far. Yes Karkat, that is exactly what I am saying.”

“Bullshit,” Karkat said.

Mind didn’t laugh. “You’ve lost your memories in a place of your own construction where even I can’t get them back,” she said. “Do you realize how impossible that is?”

“So that’s why he can’t remember everything,” Dave guessed. “Can it be fixed?”

She considered the question. “I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “He might not ever remember. That life he lived with us before, it could be gone now.”

“How can we get it back?” Dave asked.

“Bring him to the Point,” Mind said, “Keep helping him remember.”

“And then?”

“You know what,” Mind told Time. “You know what needs to be done.”

The Knight looked away, downcast. 

“Excuse me,” Karkat said, offended. “I’m right fucking here. What are you two planning?”

“He’s mortal now,” Terezi told Dave, ignoring Karkat’s outburst. “His mind can’t handle the truth.”

“I lost him once,” Dave said. “I’m not losing him again.”

And Karkat officially understood nothing. He knew more while standing in the dark void of his own deeply flawed mind than he did standing with these two god locked in their private conversation about things that no one would explain to him.

“What the fuck,” he said. “You two gods can play your games all you want, I’m not buying it and I’m getting pretty fucking sick of being ignored and purposefully kept ignorant.”

He could feel it coming, a wash of rage and shouty screaming as the troll prepared to flip his shit. He hadn’t flipped his shit since he’d been kidnapped and forcefully drug ass-backwards into the steaming pile of shit that was his current existence, and he’d saved up a lot of stuff to scream about. 

Dave and Terezi were locked in some kind of staring contest, though the Seer’s eyes were boring holes in the wall a few inches to the left of the human’s face. Karkat filled his lungs in preparation for the biggest shit-flipping bitchfit he’d ever had. This was going to be legendary.

The god of Mind and the god of Time walked into a courtblock, and a mutant troll cursed them both the fuck out. That’s how this was about to go down. That was the joke.

“Fine,” Terezi said sharply, interrupting Karkat before he could begin. Dave relaxed, the tension flowing out of his shoulders. “Have it your way Dave. I’ll let you handle this.”

“Thank you,” the god said.

“Hello!” Karkat screeched, “I’m still here you know! What the fuck is going in?”

The Seer of Mind said nothing else, but she began to dissolve. Smoke teased apart her form until all that was left was the red of her eyes. Then she was gone without so much as a goodbye.

“God,” Dave sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “She’s so dramatic.”

“Don’t you even start that shit,” Karkat hissed, furious and fed-up. “Dave.”

“What?”

“Remember when you mentioned me running screaming into the trees?” Karkat asked, “Because that scenario is getting closer by the second unless you tell me what is going on.”

“I’m not the one being problematic here,” Dave said, looking at the locked door with a frown. “We need to leave. I can tell you once we’re out of this town.”

“Oh no you fucking don’t,” Karkat said, baring his teeth. “I can’t take any more of this bullshit. Tell me now.”

“Karkat please,” Dave said, and his red eyes were full of a pain that stole all of the troll’s will to argue. “I’ll tell you everything I swear, but we need to leave.”

A loud tapping broke through and echoed through the room. A large black crow was perched outside of the window that sat over the door, and it hit the glass frantically with it’s beak, wings flailing. A shiver crawled up Karkat’s spine at the sight.

“Shit,” Dave said, and then the door burst open. The lock Terezi had placed over it had faded when she left the room, and a swarm of people flooded in. They held swords and shields, and one had a massive crossbow.

“Who are you?” The lead man said, a huge troll with chipped and broken horns who leveled a spear at the pair of them. “Surrender to us or be arrested for violating this courtblock with your presence after the Seer of Mind ordered the room cleared.”

“Thanks but I’m going to have to decline,” Dave said, remarkably chill with soldiers keen on doing him vast amounts of bodily harm zeroing in on him. “With all due respect.”

Could he at least have made an effort to not sound insulting?

“You think that’s fucking funny?” The troll with the crossbow demanded. Karkat gulped hard, fear and adrenaline coursing through him at the sight of the crossbow bolt centered over Dave’s chest. His hands ached for the hilt of weapons that he didn’t have.

“You’re both under arrest,” the persecutioner said, reaching out for Dave’s arm with his hand.

The god’s eyes flashed red, and faster than Karkat’s eyes could follow his hands were full of red light. The soldiers all froze as the outline of a large red sphere engulfed them. They hung motionless, mouths still open. One troll had been caught mid-blink.

“Let’s go,” Time said. Strange and familiar runes crawled around the edges of the disk, hands and gears and starry symbols, all glowing and pulsing with the shade of red that Karkat associated with time magic. 

“What did you do to them?” Karkat asked, his eyes wide with shock.

“I froze them in time,” the god said, already moving forward as he grabbed the troll’s hand. “They’re fine, I’ll free them once we’re away. They won’t even know what happened.”

Karkat stepped gingerly around the edges of the timeless hole the god had created. The people inside stood like statues. They weren’t even breathing.

They left the courtblock. Outside the streets were a mess with news of the Seer’s trial. Soldiers and horses were running everywhere, issuing orders with weapons that flashed in the sunlight. Dave tugged Karkat through the crowd while the crow cawed and flapped ahead, leading the way to the clearest path through the crowds.

Their horses were still tied up at the courthive entrance. Dave pulled himself up into the saddle with a graceful heave while Karkat clumsily followed suit, his hands twisting and clutching at the reigns. 

“Ride!” Dave ordered, and his old plow horse reared and struck the air with its hooves. When it crashed down and wheeled with the grace of a younger and more fine-bred animal Karkat could have sworn that Time looked like a general ready to charge into battle. It was no wonder people mistook him for the god of war, not when he looked ready to level the entire town with a sweep of his hand.

They tore from the courthive at a gallop, people lunging out of the way. Someone started screaming as the sound of broken glass filled the air. Karkat smelled smoke.

He kept his eyes on Dave’s back as the town vanished behind them. The sharp staccato of hooves on cobblestones filled his ears. Overhead, black clouds blocked out the sun. Thunder rumbled ominously and the air felt charged with power. A strong wind jumped into existence, blowing grit into Karkat’s face as behind them the town erupted into violence. 

Dave kept going and he didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh shit we got stuff happening now! Hahahahahahahahahahaha i love small cliffhangers


	7. The Time for Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay yeah the ice storm really wrecked me sorry guys. Power's been out for a few days, but it's back and my computer is working again so we're ready to dive back into this fic!
> 
> here's the new chapter

Karkat let his mare follow after Dave’s horse without much input on his part. Each time her feet hit the ground it sent a spike up into his throbbing and hurt skull.

He risked a glance behind them and saw a gang of crows were streaming through the air, keeping pace with the horses. The city, already growing smaller and smaller in the distance, was wreathed in smoke and even as he watched forked lightning flickered down.

“Dave,” Karkat called out.

The gray horse didn’t slow.

“Dave,” Karkat tried again, louder this time.

Nothing. He knew the god heard him; he just wasn’t listening.

“Strider!” Karkat yelled, and with a sudden start Dave pulled up at the reigns. His horse slowed to a stop, snorting and blowing air from the run. The crows hit them then, flapping and cawing with their rancorous voices. They mobbed the Knight until Karkat had to squint to see him through the wave of shimmering black feathers.

Then the birds were gone, winging back into the looming thunderhead that engulfed the horizon. More thunder rolled across the treetops just as they entered the forest at a canter, and the city was left behind.

“What the hell was that?” Karkat asked, not pausing as the gloom of the trees swallowed them.

“Wait,” Dave cautioned, his eyes moving over the trees. “We might not be alone.”

A hidden crow screeched out a loud call and Dave rolled his shoulders. “Okay,” Time said after a long moment. “We’re safe.”

“Dave,” Karkat said, gritting his teeth. “What. The. Hell?”

“Goddammit,” Dave sighed, his hand on the back of his neck. “Shit like this is exactly why I stay the fuck out of things.”

“What just happened?”

Dave looked at him, grim. “There are always consequences,” the god said, “for interfering with people’s lives. Terezi knew that, but she still had to go all Redglare on that courtblock and look what fucking happened.” He would have almost looked angry, if his face hadn't been set into a mask of regret.

“What? Terezi?” Karkat asked. None of this was making sense.

“She knew that seadweller was a cultist and yet she decided to save his neck for a more public noose,” Dave growled, and his fists were clenched. “We just escaped the resulting clusterfuck of her hasty decision biting that city in the ass.”

Thunder cracked again, loud enough that the horses shied sideways.

“We are gods Karkat,” Dave said, and another roll of thunder crackled ominously with his words. “People notice when we change things. They see it when we interfere. And people have never been smart about coming to the right conclusions when they learned that the Seer was in town and had a courtblock under her fist like something out of the tales of old.”

“So?”

“So the cultists came for their own,” Dave said coldly. “Even now they’re trying to rescue the seadweller from the Legislacerators, who, freshly emboldened by the appearance of Mind and trapped in a religious fever to do her holy work, are fighting back. It’s a fucking mess back there. They’re going to put everything to torch and damn any poor fucker who gets in their way.”

Karkat had seen riots before. He’d seen towns after raiders came through, full of broken-eyed people and the blackened shells of homes. He remembered the sound of glass crunching under his horse’s hooves while smoke filled the air. He couldn’t help but look back at the city in flames behind them. People were going to die.

“We have to help them,” Karkat said, filled with certainty. He wheeled his horse around, unarmed and woozy still, but sure of one thing. They had to help stop this. “Dave, we have to help them.”

“No,” Time said. “Come one. We can make Canton by tomorrow if we ride through the night.”

What? “Fuck no,” Karkat protested. “Dave, people could be dying. Can’t you stop this?”

The god blinked and Karkat knew that Time could stop this. He could fix this. With a snap of his fingers he could stop the cultists and save the city. It would be easy for him.

“I could,” Dave admitted. “But I can’t.”

Anger boiled through the troll’s veins, hot enough that he saw red. “Fuck you,” he sneered, “What the fuck do you mean? If you can help, why won’t you?” Wasn’t that part of the Knight’s job description? Protector of the defenseless? “Some great fucking Knight you are.” He spat out the words, and a small part of him winced when he saw Time flinch.

“Wait,” Dave caught him by the sleeve as he turned to go, to trudge stubbornly back into the fight until he found some way to help.

The troll froze under the touch, and Dave’s red eyes were burning.

“Listen to me,” Dave said, pleading. “I had to get you out safely. That was my job. I had to keep you safe.”

“I was perfectly fucking safe,” Karkat snapped, “Do you think I’m defenseless? I made it just fine on my own until you showed up and turned my life into such a fucking nightmare!”

“They were going to kill you,” Dave spoke with certainty. “The cultists outnumber the Legislacerators. They’re better armed, more skilled in battle. They’re fighting to totally cleanse the city of lowbloods, lawmakers, the poor, and any other human or troll who gets in their way.”

So it was going to be a massacre then. Karkat wondered how Dave knew all of this until he remembered the crows that had swarmed the city. “We have to go back,” Karkat argued stubbornly. “We have to do something.”

“We are,” Dave promised, “I’m taking you to the Point for 413. That’s what I’m doing.”

“But the city,” Karkat pleaded. “All those people.”

Dave gave him a long look, his mouth tight. “John is with them,” he whispered. “He’s taking care of it.”

The rain began to come down just then, thick sideways sheets of it. Karkat was instantly soaked to the bone. Water ran down his small horns and made his hair cling to his scalp.

“John?” Karkat said, recalling the lightning, the way the storm had appeared out of nowhere as thunder echoed down from what had been a clear sky.

“Did you really think that I would abandon them?” Dave asked softly.

Karkat opened his mouth, but Dave had spurred his horse ahead. He blinked after Dave, his hands jittery with the icy rain. The troll spat out rainwater and fought to keep up as he growled at himself. Stupid stupid stupid. 

He was the idiot. It was him. 

“I’m sorry,” Karkat panted when his horse drew alongside of Dave’s again. “I was out of line.”

“It’s alright,” Dave said, and Karkat knew that it really wasn’t. “John won’t let anything bad happen. The fires are out and even hemocaste cultists wouldn’t dare to provoke the Heir. The battle’s over before it’s begun.”

Of course it was. If Karkat had stopped to think for three seconds he would have known that. He knew Dave better than that.

“I… I panicked,” Dave admitted. “All I could think about was the soldiers hurting you or cultists seeing your eyes and I panicked. I had to get you out of there first. Everything else came second.”

Karkat said nothing as the Knight of Time continued. “If you were killed, there’s nothing I can do to fix that. Death isn’t something I can control. None of us can. We made that rule a long time ago that the dead stay dead.” Dave ran one hand through his wet hair and wrung out water. “You don’t get how easily I could lose you again.”

The obvious pain in his voice took Karkat’s breath away. His insides were twisting and roiling, burning with intent.

“I’m sorry,” Karkat said again, just to fill the silence. “I wasn’t thinking straight. You didn’t deserve that.”

One corner of the god’s mouth ticked up in a wry expression. “I still shouldn’t have freaked out,” he said.

“I should have trusted you,” Karkat said.

The god of Time looked at him then, looked at him with rainwater dripping from his pale eyelashes. He looked smaller in the rain, slicked down with a wet real-ness. He’d never looked so human, so vulnerable, and Karkat couldn’t help but think he was beautiful. 

He shivered, the icy rain seeping beneath his clothes.

“You’re cold,” Dave said gently.

“It’s nothing,” Karkat said, tugging his wet sleeved down over the bandages still wrapped tight around his arms. “We should keep going.”

“Ride with me,” Dave said. “I can keep the rain off.”

For once Karkat didn’t protest. His new resolve to trust in the god of Time was strong. It had only been four days since the cave, and in that time Karkat grew to realize that Time wasn’t some unknowable godly force or coldly uncaring being like he’d thought. The Knight was a someone, a someone with feelings and emotions just like any other person. Dave had never done anything except try his best to help the troll, and maybe it was time for Karkat to start believing in him.

Trust was an odd thing. It led Karkat to tie his horse behind Dave’s and join the god in the saddle. Dave leaned back to make room for him, and when Karkat settled down his back was against the god’s warm chest. He could feel the brush of Dave’s thighs against his own legs, soft and limber.

Dave’s outfit had changed again, into something incredibly soft and red. He drew a cape from around his shoulders and covered Karkat with it, and wrapped it securely in place.

“Here,” Time said. “It won’t get wet.”

“Thank you,” Karkat huffed, already drying out. Dave was warm and solid, and like this, pressed tight against his body, the troll could hear his heartbeat. It had never occurred to him that Dave had a heartbeat, but the sound of its steady pulse was incredibly soothing. 

“It’s getting late,” Dave said as the faint light through the clouds began to dim. “You can sleep, I won’t let you fall,” he promised.

He tried to sleep, pressed snug against the warm body shielding him from the rain. The horses plodded slowly onward, and Karkat was surrounded by a warm glow. Dave smelled comforting and familiar, like something sweet that tickled the back of his mind where his lost memories were hiding.

All he could feel were Dave’s arms around him, gently holding and supporting him in a way that made a fuzzy feeling tingle up his back, and Karkat couldn’t help but notice that trust felt a lot like love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *flips table*


	8. A God Remembers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heck yeah new chapter! Here's your daily davekat fix ;)
> 
> the new semester has hit me hard, but this fic is still barreling along full-speed ahead.

Karkat woke slowly to the familiar feeling of a horse under him, and the unfamiliar feeling of the saddlehorn between his legs digging uncomfortably into sensitive areas. There was an arm around him, holding him upright. But these were all minor details, because Karkat’s face was smashed up against the crook of Dave’s neck and he was curled against the god’s chest as he made a pillow out of the pale junction where Time’s neck joined one angular shoulder. The red cape was still wrapped around him like a blanket, and his own chest was rumbling with a purr as he subconsciously cozied up to the Knight of Time. 

Wakefulness hit him all at once, and he bolted upright and away from the god before the troll really considered the fact that he was still on a horse. 

Karkat slid sideways with a shriek, and he would have fallen if Dave hadn’t flashed out one hand and caught hold of Karkat’s shirt. The troll hung sideways, dangling off of the horse as he trotted peacefully along, not bothered by the sideways rider in the least. Karkat caught a glimpse of pale gray underbelly, and the huge dark hooves that might have crushed him if he’d fallen all the way out of the saddle. He swallow thickly, his heart pounding.

“Having fun?” Dave asked, one eyebrow quirked up as Karkat’s face flushed hot and red with embarrassment. 

“Dammit,” Karkat growled, blinking rapidly. “I’ll have you know that I am having fun. This is perfectly fine Dave. I just love dangling off the side of a horse first thing in the mornings.”

Dave was still grinning unabashedly as he brought his horse to a gentle stop.

Karkat carefully let himself slide out of the saddle until he could get his feet under him. Dave lowered him so that we was free and vertical again.

Karkat scowled at the god, feeling grumpy and still a tad embarrassed. “Where are we?” He asked to cover up the fact that he could feel himself blushing. He looked around as he went back to his mare, turning his back on Dave as he stomped away.

“We’re just outside of Canton,” Dave answered. “We should skirt the capitol and reach the Point by this afternoon.”

The sun was bright and glaring where it streamed down between the sparse trees. The forest near the capital was more open, less wild, then other trees Karkat had seen. This was all old-growth criss-crossed with well-traveled hunting trails. It was still bright enough out that Karkat wondered how the hell he’d slept in so late. It must have been mid-morning by now.

“Sleep well?” Dave asked as Karkat dug through his saddlebag for some bread.

“I did,” Karkat said shortly as he turned the night over in his mind. He had slept well, remarkably so. He felt refreshed and well-rested in a way he hadn’t been in a long time, even with all of the aches and pains that came with spending the night in the saddle. 

Dave had this goofy expression on his face, and he was still wearing that odd red outfit with the cape that burned at the edges of the hole in his memories. It was such a stupid looking outfit, all plush red fabric, but somehow on the god of Time it made sense. 

“I have some questions,” Karkat said.

“I have some answers,” Dave said. “Probably.”

Karkat huffed at him. “Are you done with keeping things from me yet?” He asked.

“It depends,” the god answered. “I’ll tell the truth until I think you can’t handle it anymore.”

That was likely the best the troll could hope for. “Is it that bad?” Karkat asked, his voice small for once. 

“Parts of it,” Dave admitted. “But there’s good parts too.”

Karkat sighed and grabbed at his fractured memories, but nothing new came forward. It was unbelievably frustrating. 

“I know we played a game,” Karkat said slowly. “I was there. You were there. It was a long time ago.”

“Is that all you remember?”

“Pretty much,” Karkat said. “That’s all I know for certain.”

“I’ll start at the beginning,” Dave said. His horse flicked its ears. “Stop me at once if your head starts to hurt.”

“Alright,” Karkat said, eager to finally get some goddamn answers. 

“In the beginning,” Time started, “We fell from the sky.”

Karkat felt his eyebrows raise, but he kept quiet as Dave continued.

“I’m telling this story out of order, because that’s how things happened,” he said, “It was me, John, Rose, and Jade. We played a game and destroyed our planet forever, but we were taken to a different place to keep playing in the hopes that we could do the impossible- create a new universe for us to live in. Apparently universes age and die just like anything else does, and when the end is near it offers certain people the chance to create a new universe and so continue with existence. That is the nature of the game we played. We were thirteen.” Dave’s hands were twisting in the reigns, but his voice remained cool and even, emotionless. “There were twelve trolls who also played this game and won, creating my universe in the first place, but everything went wrong, wrong enough that it was all destroyed and there was no hope of winning.”

“That sounds bleak,” Karkat said.

“It was bleak,” Dave said, still staring straight-ahead. “Familiar yet?”

“No,” Karkat said.

“Since we had no chance of winning, we broke the rules and created four new players to help give us a chance to continue. That’s how there’s 20 of us; eight humans and twelve trolls.”

Karkat knew there were only eleven troll gods, but he held his tongue. He might have believed in this game, but he still didn’t think it was possible that he had been a god.

“There was one more player,” Dave admitted, “But she isn’t around anymore.”

“Mind took me to one of her memories,” Karkat said. “A strange metal livingblock. There were stars outside the window and no ground. The floor hummed. I don’t remember it, but I may have recognized a few things about the block.”

“That would be the meteor,” Dave said, grinning. “A few of us lived there for a while. It’s where we first met.”

That actually sounded nice. He liked the idea of living with these people he was supposed to know. He liked knowing that he hadn’t been alone. “Who all was there?” Karkat asked, wrestling with his non-cooperative thinkpan.

“All twelve trolls lived there once,” Dave said, “But by the time I arrived there were only myself, you, Terezi, Rose, Kanaya, and Gamzee left.”

Gamzee. Karkat tried to think of who that was and came up blank. Void maybe? “Where was everyone else?”

Dave shrugged. “Jade and John took a few years to catch up with us. Aradia was off doing her own thing trying to pave the way for eventual victory. Everyone else was dead by that point.”

“What?” Karkat said, and something awful flickered past his mind. He remembered honking, yellow blood covering his hands as he tried to run, gasping through the pain as his heart collapsed in on itself under the weight of the words ‘my fault’.

Dave paused to give him a long look as the troll struggled to control his breathing. 

“I’m fine,” Karkat lied. “Really.”

“It’s not exactly a happy story,” Dave said, completely emotionless. “I almost don’t want you to remember parts of it. These… these things that happened, that we did- maybe you’re better off not knowing the specifics.”

“But I thought that you wanted me to remember?” Karkat asked, confused.

“I did,” Dave admitted, “But now, watching you, I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Why?” Karkat demanded.

Dave looked away. “Did you ever think,” he asked, “that if you built this hole and hid your memories behind it, that maybe you wanted to forget?”

Karkat blinked away the ramifications of the idea. “No,” he said, serious. “No, I wouldn’t do that.”

“How can you know?” Dave asked.

“I just do,” Karkat decided. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Do what?” Dave asked, raising one pale eyebrow. “Forget?”

There was no accusation in Dave’s voice, but Karkat still felt defensive. “Not intentionally,” Karkat promised. He couldn’t name what feeling was coursing through his veins, but the unguarded and searching look the Knight was giving him made the troll’s face feel hot. “I don’t know what happened to me,” he told Dave, “But I know that whatever it was must have been by mistake.”

“I hope it was,” Dave said, grim. “But if it wasn’t?” The god just wouldn't let it alone. He worried at his his uncertainty like a wriggler at an ant bite, determined to leave a scar.

“Goddammit,” Karkat growled, clenching his fists as he ducked under a low hanging branch. “Do you want me to remember or not Dave? Make up your fucking mind already.”

“I want you to remember,” Dave said, his voice clear and earnest but wary all the same, like he was guarding against some hidden blow he expected to fall. “Trust me I do. I want you to remember m- the game. All of us.” That last bit was rushed and short. Clipped with feinted nonchalance.

Karkat caught the stutter immediately. “Dave,” he said slowly, “How long ago were we separated?”

“Exactly?” Dave asked, his face contemplating the answer. “Four thousand six hundred and twelve years, eleven months, thirty four weeks, one day, four hours, twenty two minutes and fourteen seconds ago, I stepped through the gate and into the new world we had created. We all did, except for you.”

“What was that like?” Karkat asked, careful as he braced himself for the answer. He almost couldn’t fathom how much time that was in sweeps.

“Awful,” Dave whispered under his breath, just loud enough for the troll to hear. “It was supposed to be our victory. It was supposed to be over and great and safe. We hadn’t even known before winning that everyone we had lost during the game would be returned as well, so suddenly all of our dead friends we thought we had lost forever were back and that was the best thing that the game had ever done for us, and I remember seeing Sollux and thinking goddamn you were going to be so fucking happy to see him again, and I turned to find you and I was so goddamn fucking happy but you weren’t there. You just weren’t there.”

He tried to picture it but couldn’t. The gaps in his memories sucked at him like a black hole and sent a thrum of fear through him. Dave was staring straight ahead, completely motionless in a way that made Karkat aware of how deeply wrong this was. Dave had time flowing through his veins. The god was always moving with it. He had this rhythm, this pulse, under his skin that he wore like a mantle. His fingers were always tapping to music the troll couldn’t hear, and seeing Dave so motionless and empty was wrong in ways he couldn’t describe. 

“What did you do?” Karkat asked softly.

Dave didn’t even shrug. It was like he was frozen. “Jade tried to go back,” he said. “To find you, but the gate was one-way only and it collapsed in on itself a few minutes after the last person came through. Kanaya… it’s hard to say, but I’d never seen her cry before. That’s about when I think it started to set in for me.” Now he did shrug, and it was a move of tightly repressed misery. 

“I didn’t believe it,” Dave said. “I’d just seen you. You were right behind me because we made sure that we’d be the last to go through to protect everyone in case something else happened. We agreed to step through together, and I knew you had been right there beside me. I couldn’t believe it.”

Karkat wanted to crawl back into Dave’s saddle, to hold him close and promise that he was here now and that everything would be okay. He ached so badly to reach out and just comfort the god of Time and wipe away the blankness that Dave hid behind when he didn’t want to face his emotions.

Instead Karkat had to talk, because there were still things he had to know first. “What happened then?”

“I waited,” Dave said simply. “I waited for you, like I thought if there was a chance, just a chance, that you would appear if I just waited long enough then that’s exactly what I would do. I waited.”

“Dave?” Karkat asked, his throat tight.

“Yeah?”

“How long did you wait for me?”

Dave pulled his horse to a stop so that he and Karkat were face to face. The moment stretched between them, hot and electric, before Dave answered. “I never stopped.”

The words sent a sharpened spike of mingled compassion and guilt through his core. Over four thousand years…

There were a hundred things he wanted to say to Dave, but the god looked away. “We will reach the Point by nightfall,” he said, changing the subject. “Canton is nearby but we won’t enter the capital. Too risky.”

“Dave,” Karkat started gently.

“By nightfall,” the god repeated. “Right on time and everything. Damn I’m good.”

“Dave.”

“You don’t know the whole story yet,” Time said, waving away the troll’s concerns. He sounded hoarse. “Wait until after tonight, please. I, I can’t.”

Karkat swallowed thickly and blinked away the red that tinted his vision. “Okay,” he forced himself to sound calm and even when it was hurting him to let the matter be. “Later.”

“Later,” Dave agreed, and it was close enough to a promise that Karkat let the swirling force burning through his blood dwindle. He felt so close to remembering something vital, and he was torn between seizing the memory or letting it fade.

Later, he told himself. Later. There would be time for everything later. He took a deep breath to calm himself even though he still wanted to reach out to the god of Time so badly that his fingers trembled with the urge.

“What happens when we reach the point?” Karkat asked.

That made Dave smile, relieved about the new topic. “You get to meet everyone,” he said, grinning. Karkat saw the mask for what it was. “All of the gods will be there for our yearly get together. We should discuss the recent hemocaste resurgence and see if anyone had any idea about what happened to you.”

“And after that?” Karkat glanced at Dave and the god’s face was still closed off, but not so much that the troll couldn’t tell that he was stewing over something.

“After that,” Dave continued slowly, “hopefully, we get to resolve a problem that should have been fixed a long time ago.”

“What kind of problem?” Karkat asked, knowing that the problem was about him.

“You’re the Lost god,” Dave reminded him. “You’re currently mortal and that makes you vulnerable. The world has fallen out of balance over the last few centuries. We need Blood back to strengthen the ties that bind everything together and fix the things that have broken.”

“I don’t understand that still,” Karkat sighed. “I get the game, but the part about being a god? I just can’t imagine it.”

“It can be hard to believe,” Dave told him, trying to reassure the troll. “I became a god at thirteen years old while in another universe. It was easier for me to adjust after we won the game because I’d already been a god for years. It was harder for the others.”

“What do you mean?” the troll asked, confused. “I thought everyone was a god?”

“Not at first,” Dave admitted. “Entering the new universe made all of the not godtiered players into gods. It was a bit of a clusterfuck for a while, all these new and untrained OP gods running around blowing shit up left and right. We had to bind rules to ourselves to keep things sane. We had to become something beyond what the game had made us into.”

“That sounds complicated,” Karkat said.

“Not at all,” Dave said. “It’s like this; I am a Knight and that comes with its own set of rules left over from the game. While I am still a Knight and I’m strongly tied to the class, classes shifted to have different meanings beyond what the game structured for us. We had to rewrite a lot about what existence meant, and in return each of us became more like a Lord or a Muse then our individual classes, though it’s still easier for us to act according to our original designation. It’s also why I’m the god of a lot of things not granted to me in the game, like swords and irony. We grew into what the new world needed us to be.”

“But why?” he asked, grasping at the meaning behind the god of Time’s words.

Dave shrugged. “In order to make this world the best possible environment for life to begin and to grow we had to build it from the ground up. I guess while reshaping the world into something more hospitable we also reshaped ourselves for the same reason- to better protect and provide for the people that would live here.”

“So you weren’t always like this?” Karkat wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not. He could remember the Time he saw in the cave, eyes of red fire, pale limbs smoking away in splinters as the magic of the circle lashed at him. Dave had been ethereal and deadly and utterly unnatural in a way that made his eyes feel singed from looking. 

“No, I’ve always been me,” Dave answered. “Just not as… it’s hard to explain. I’m bound now, so I guess in a way I’m more like the me I was before in at least a physical sense? You might have to ask Rose about that one.”

The words were background noise. Back then, the god of Time in the cave looked different than the god that rode peacefully beside him, even though their faces were the same. Time wore his body differently then, had loomed huge and walked like his skin was too small and tight to hold him. He stood drawn up like he might come apart at the seams and explode outwards in every direction, like he'd been caged by the bones Karkat had seen outlined in his flesh. 

At least now Dave seemed more comfortable in his skin, or maybe he'd just grown better at concealing how poorly human form could fit him at times. “Is there anything I should be doing in advance of this meeting?” Karkat asked, still unsure of himself when it came to acting around other gods that weren’t Time.

“Nah,” Dave said reassuringly. “Just keep trying to remember things.”

“Can you help out a little?” Karkat asked. “I think I do better with remembering when prompted.”

Dave considered the question. “I think I’ve got something that might help, something of yours.”

“Of mine?” Karkat raised his eyebrows, his claws running through a knot in his mare’s mane and smoothening it out. He focused on the small task to conceal his sudden excitement.

“It’s not the ones you used the most,” Dave said, “And they’re not the best, but they were yours before the game started.” He turned around in the saddle, just enough to show that his hands were now full of glinting metal.

The strange blades were curved to wicked points, and it was clear they were old and well-worn. But the metal was polished and it was obvious when Karkat reached out and fit his hands around the cracked leather of the hilts that these blades had been loved. They fit in his palms like his hands had been made to hold them, and somehow he knew each nick and flaw in the worn blades of the sickles, how and where they caught and reflected the light.

“These were mine?” He asked, awestruck and captivated by the weapons that sat so comfortably in his hands. He hefted one and felt how balanced it was.

“They were,” Dave said, torn between smiling and frowning at the sight of Karkat with the sickles. “I wish I had something besides weapons to give you, but those were all I had on me when you disappeared.”

“You held onto them all this time?” he asked, his cheeks heating up.

“I did,” Dave said quietly. “We should stop soon. The horses need rest and you need to eat. I can tell you more then.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Karkat said, still holding the old beat-up sickles close to his chest like they were precious treasures.

They stopped at a grassy glade between the trees so the horses could graze and rest, and the sun was hot overhead as the day slid away with the shadows between the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of want to make stupid comics out of several scenes in this fic, like, that part in the beginning about karkat asleep and waking up to dangle off of the side of the horse? That's just, like... the best ever??? Dave's face? Karkat's?!? Sign me up pls
> 
> It's time to make this fic... TRANSPIRE.


	9. A Turning Point is Reached

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chapter courtesy of your friendly neighborhood Davekat dealer

Karkat had been to the capital before. He’d spent a few weeks moving within the clustered warren of a city, following its tangled roads and navigating bustling markets crammed with a mix of humans and trolls and horses and street chickens that followed at his heels and bit at his ankles. It was the perfect place to disappear in, and he was glad when they skirted the edges of the massive city.

Dave kept to back roads and avoided other travelers with what must have been help from the crows that Karkat glanced out of the corners of his eyes. The darkly feathered birds always vanished when he set his direct gaze on them, but he knew they were watching.

“Tell me something else about before,” he prompted the Knight of Time, his hunger for new things insatiable even with the intense bout of questioning the god had endured over the past several hours.

“Okay,” Dave said, rising to the challenge. “This one should shake loose a few memories for sure. You know the capital’s name?”

“Canton?” Karkat asked. “Everyone knows its name.”

“But it wasn’t always called Canton,” Dave said, already smiling like he was about to reveal a secret. “Originally we named the city something else.” He paused for dramatic effect. “We named the city Cantown in the beginning. The name changed slowly over time into what you know it as today.”

“Cantown? That’s an awful name for a capital,” Karkat grumbled. “That’s a stupid fucking name for- wait.” He said, his eyes widening as the first memory of the day shook itself free of the void in his mind. “Cantown. Wasn’t that a, a thing we did?” He snatched at the memory, straining to rip more free but only catching glimpses that slid from his claws like sand. “We helped build it?” He phrased the question slowly, watching Dave closely for a reaction.

The god was looking at where the sun was setting behind two hills. “Yeah, we did,” he said. “God, I wish I could tell the Mayor that you’re okay. He was worried sick over you for years.”

The name came with no recollection. “Who was the Mayor?” he asked.

“Someone we both knew,” Dave answered. “He help us get everything started. The city was his idea, and goddamn was he great at planning it.”

“What happened to him?” Karkat asked carefully, also staring at where the setting sun was painting the sky with pink and orange.

Dave sighed. “WV went on to do bigger and better things, and he died peacefully in his sleep a few decades after cementing the new plans for his own city across the sea.” The god’s voice was bittersweet and sent a pang through him.

“He sounds amazing,” Karkat offered, not sure what to say.

“We should be there soon,” Dave said, like the god of random subject changes the troll secretly thought he was. “Do you feel ready?”

“Not even a little,” Karkat answered, “I’m mostly scared shitless, but somehow I feel like this is the right thing.”

“I can’t wait,” Dave said, and his horse picked up its heels as if it could feel Time’s growing excitement. “This should be fun.”

Karkat trudged ahead, their horse’s pace quickening as the sun ate away the horizon in vivid inches.

“Up there,” Dave said, and the hill rose skyward above them like a gray monolith above the trees. “We’ll have to leave our horses at the bottom.”

“Can we climb that?” Karkat asked, eyeing the steep and rocky sides.

“There’s a staircase,” Dave said. “It’s small and narrow, but not too bad.”

Dave nudged his horse into a gallop as he raced for the monument, and Karkat followed beside him. His mare’s gingery mane whipped at his face as they tore across the ground and his heart felt lighter than it had in days. He heard Dave give a whoop of excitement from ahead and let out a laugh in response.

His mare was faster than the old plowhorse the god was riding, and in a few seconds he was creeping past Dave, leaning low and limber over the mare’s neck as she raced along the path. Dave was laughing as he urged his horse to run faster, eyeing Karkat with red eyes alight with mischief. 

Karkat beat the god of Time to the base of the hill by several lengths and struggled to get his horse to slow her wild gallop. Her ears were up and she snorted at him, still running hot and eager.  
Dave trotted up behind him, his horse blowing from the short dash and shaking out it’s mane.

“I win,” Karkat said proudly as Dave slid sideways and off of his horse.

“In my defense you do have the faster horse,” Dave said, “But if you want to play it like that…” He wiggled his eyebrows and Karkat head something move behind him.

He whipped around to see… Dave, sitting on a rock and smirking.

“Actually,” the Dave said smugly, “I was here first.”

Karkat slowly turned to look back at the other Dave, still beside his horse, then quickly back at where a second Dave was purposefully lounging across a rock, the picture of ease.

“Motherfucker,” Karkat cursed, and the other Dave let out a bark of laughter and vanished.

“Don’t get into races with Time gods,” the Knight offered helpfully, “It never seems to end in your favor.”

“I don’t even know if that’s cheating or not, but it’s certainly not fucking allowed,” Karkat protested, not really upset. He couldn’t stop his face from curling into a smile. “Time fuckery?”

“Just a little,” Dave answered, still grinning. 

Karkat made a show of rolling his eyes as he tied the lead rope securely around a tree and gave it a few tugs. Satisfied, he made his way over to Dave, who was watching the sky.

“Isn’t first a relative statement when it comes to you anyway?” Karkat asked, watching the colors of the sunset slowly begin to fade into shades of purple.

“Yeah,” Dave nodded. “Let’s do this.”

The staircase had been carved directly out of the side of the rock, and it was narrow. There was just enough room for his feet to find traction.

“Watch your step,” Dave warned, climbing behind him.

“I’ll be fine,” Karkat huffed in response just as his foot slipped. He fell backwards and directly into Dave, who easily stopped him from busting his ass.

“I did warn you about the stairs,” Dave reminded him, still smirking.

“That’s a joke, isn’t it?” Karkat asked, “I know you well enough to recognize that stupid look on your face.”

“Maybe,” Dave said, his face disconcertingly close to the troll’s. Up close like this, Karkat could pick out all the shades of red that made up Dave’s eyes. He had to force himself to straighten up and away before he was caught staring.

The stairway stretched up and onward. Karkat didn’t slip again, now wary of the footing, and slowly the sky faded into twilight. They reached the top just as the sky was in its lavender throes, clinging to what light it had left.

The stairs evened out to reveal that the top of the hill had been overtaken by rocks that did not fall naturally. They rose like pillars, surrounding a shallow floor and a raised circle. Runes were etched along every visible surface and a breeze howled like music through the stone pillars.

“Welcome,” Dave said grandly, “To the Point.”

The Point was gray and bare, but there was a weight in the air as Karkat gazed at the rocks in wonder, He turned to see Dave rooting around a small alcove next to the top of the stairs. 

“Here,” the god said, turning to reveal a small bowl he carefully plucked two coins from. He held them up and they glinted gold in the dying light.

Karkat took the small coins and studied them. On one side, they were blank, and on the other each had a small word stamped into the metal. “Genesis,” he read aloud, looking at the god.

“You’ll need to keep both of those in your mouth at all times,” Time said, his eyes glowing faintly. “They’ll keep your head from,” he made a small explosion noise and mimed something coming apart.

Karkat remembered the feeling of the Heir looming over him and mentally multiplied that feeling by twenty before he nodded and slipped the coins over his tongue. They were small and easy to keep in place, and they warmed quickly to his body temperature.

He ran his tongue over the unfamiliar smoothness of the coins before speaking. He could feel the age of the stones around him, humming with whispers. It felt like he was being watched, but with the two coins he found that the attention wasn’t overbearing.

“What happens now? Karkat asked as Dave stepped into the stone circle, his eyes on where the last crust of the sun was sinking out of sight.

“Karkat,” Dave asked.

“What?"

“If you start to feel like this is all too much, let me know,” Time said, “It’s just about time for the party to begin.”

The sun drug itself below the horizon with good grace and gave way to the night. For a moment, there was only the gray of twilight. Then, colors. 

The runes were glowing. Light snaked its way across the ground. It traced lines of fire along where deep carved runes crawled across the stone of the Point.

Karkat gasped with wonder and turned to Dave to see that light was flaring out from where his feet touched the ground. Red poured across the rock like a wave to gather where the godsign for Time was illuminated across the stone circle.

Red hung in the air around him. Magic glowed from beneath Time’s skin and turned his pale flesh translucent with it. It was a beautiful display, and it was only getting brighter as other colors joined the rainbow vomit that was rapidly saturating the top of the holy place.

Blue and white and green and pink. A gust of blue raced past him, humming with familiar laughter as the Heir circled the top of the hill and funneled himself down into where the godsign of Breath hung above his place in the circle.

Green lightning exploded above them from the sky, and with a burst of pure green fire two figures stepped out of the air and lightly touched down near where Time stood.

One’s wild black hair was topped with white ears, and from the other rose slim asymmetrical horns in a familiar silhouette Karkat recognized from countless temples to the Sylph as the two gods of Space entered the circle.

He felt a gentle hand ghost across one shoulder and whipped around, heart pounding, to see the violet eyes of the Seer of Light grinning at him. She winked before her form shimmered and reformed itself at the Sylph’s side.

More and more gods were appearing, humans and trolls both. The familiar red of Time caught his eye and saw the curving horns of the Maid from where she took her place at Dave’s side, also dressed in red. Her long hair was moving to its own breeze, but he saw nothing to fear in the god of death when she smiled at him and dipped her head in silent greeting.

Karkat stood in quiet shock as the assembled gods filed into the Point as a slim crescent of the moon rose in the clear sky. He saw the Page of Breath with feathers tangled in his hair beside where John’s hood floated behind him, the god of Breath’s eyes burning with blue flame as he called the meeting to order.

“Okay, okay,” John said, banging a massive hammer against a stone pillar to silence the explosive chatter that came from all of the gods. “It’s good to see everyone together again.” Tiny balls of light were chasing each other through the pillars, humming and buzzing. They left thick smeared trails of stardust in their wake.

The hilltop became a circle of magic with eleven individual wedges of spiraling light for each of the godsigns. Hope, Life, Void, Heart… the troll could count them all.

The talk died down and Karkat felt exposed and out of place among the gods. He could feel that he was being closely observed. Multicolored light crept around his feet like fog.

“Skip all of the intro shit!” A voice yelled out. Black lightning crackled and snapped from where Doom stood, red and blue sparking between his double horns as the Mage interrupted Breath. “We’ve all heard it before- let’s get to the good stuff.”

As one most of the gods turned to look dead at Karkat, and he could feel one of the coins heating up in his mouth.

“Fine,” John said, just as eager as the rest of them to address the real issue at hand. “But first, ground rules for the mortal. We all know Karkat is here and has been mysteriously returned to us, but he’s mortal so that means absolutely no classpecting insanity please.”

Several of the gods nodded, and he saw the arched horns of Life nod at him under the flowers in her hair. He gave her a tentative smile and his thinkpan ached with it.

“Why’s he still mortal?” The Thief spoke up, a blue sword buckled at her hip as Karkat met a gaze that had way too many pupils involved in it for a single troll.

“I’m more interested in discovering how and why this occurrence happened in the first place,” The Sylph said, the black of her dress shimmering with stars. “Not that I am complaining about Karkat’s return.” She gave the troll a kind glance and again Karkat felt a bolt of some unknowable knowing- he knew her, knew her in the same fuzzy and half-remembered way that he recognized all of the faces that now surrounded him.

“I also have suspicions,” Rose voiced. Several other gods spoke up, and with them speaking all at once sound lost its meaning. Karkat could feel the words crawl across his skin even though his ears couldn’t understand them. 

“Let’s make this part quick,” John said, “Rose, can the three of you that have been interacting with Karkat fill the rest of us in?”

The Seer’s gaze was steady as she accepted the task. “Beyond any doubts, we can all confirm that this is indeed the real Karkat, though his memories of us have been displaced.”

“Really displaced,” Terezi added, looking both bored and hyper-attentive as she glared veiled daggers at where the Thief was, a sly grin on her sharp face. “Almost like someone stole them.”

“Oh, fuck off Pyrope,” the Thief of Light scoffed. “I’m actually glad Karkat’s back; unlike like some smucks I could name.”

Someone groaned in exasperation as Terezi stuck out her tongue at the Thief.

“Dave?” John asked, ignoring where the two gods of Light and Mind were trading mixed glares.

“It’s him,” Dave answered, firm and sure of his words.

The confirmation made a huge impression on the other gods and several let out loud cheers. He heard applause and his chest felt tight with confusion and embarrassment as he watched these strangers celebrate his presence even though he did not remember knowing them, not truly. 

“Karkat,” John asked, addressing the troll directly. “Can you step forward?

Entering the circle was strange. He half expected something to happen, and when he stepped through the ring surrounding the circle and nothing fell from the sky or exploded, the gods let out a held breath. Disappointment? Relief? Karkat couldn’t tell.

“Karkat,” John asked, “Amnesia aside, what do you know?”

“I know fuck-all,” Karkat said, and Terezi snorted a laugh. “Not about the things you ask at least.”

“But you believe?” John prompted, “In us? In the game and your role in it?”

“I kind of have to,” Karkat answered, standing before nineteen various gods he could have sworn he knew. He was drowning in a sea of familiar but nameless faces. “I might not remember anything, but there’s other ways of knowing besides memory.”

John nodded, smiling widely as he hefted the massive hammer over one broad shoulder like its weight was negligible. 

“And I have been remembering things on my own, with Dave’s help,” he continued, shooting Time a grateful glance, “maybe I’ll figure out the rest too.”

John seemed to accept his answer, and a breeze gusted across the hilltop. The music of the wind flutes embedded in the pillars swelled. “I think knowing exactly what happened to you is overrated anyway,” he said. “You’re back. Screw the specifics.”

“I have a theory,” Rose said, and the other Light god groaned.

“Not one of your goddamned theories again,” Thief said.

“Relax Vriska,” Rose said lightly, and Karkat matched the name to a face at last. “This one won’t take long.”

“And?” Void asked her sister curiously. The muscular troll at her side said nothing, but he crossed his arms over his chest at the question.

Rose raised her voice to the circle, her form illuminating the darkness. “I believe that we may have fucked up,” she deadpanned. “Hemocaste cultists are running up and down the continent spreading violence and mistrust. The tension between the city states grows more and more strained with each passing month. Canton is losing its control over the countryside and outer villages are becoming vulnerable to raider attacks without the city’s protection. There’s even a new, bolder wave of pirates,” here the Seer shot a sharp glance at Vriska, who didn’t so much as flinch from the withering glare, “wrecking their own brand of havoc on the coast while across the sea the carapacians of Derse and Prospit balance on the edge of a civil war that we have done nothing to stop.”

“Fuck,” Dave said, running a hand through his hair. “I thought we fixed that, like, last year?”

“The truce did not hold,” Rose sighed. “What I mean to say is that all of these problems stem from the same fount- we’ve let these things happen. We have been negligent to the peoples we are supposed to provide for and in response the world has soured. We lingered lax these past two centuries and now we are faced with trials of our own failures as guardians.”

“Harsh,” Doom commented, “That sounds like it sucks, but I’m going to have to agree. The world is currently going to shit. Aradia?”

The Maid of Time answered, “Rose is correct,” she said. “The entire world is off-balance now. The people suffer for it. Their souls are weary and not as ready to believe as they once were. They are bitter towards us and some of their spirits want to linger. They are an unquiet dead.”

The words sent a chill down Karkat’s spine.

“Okay, so the world has some slight issues,” the Witch of Space admitted, her ears twitching from the Space section of the circle. “But it’s still nothing serious! We might have messed up, but it’s not bad enough that we can’t help.”

“How does Karkat returning fit into this?” John asked, his face serious.

Rose shrugged. “No one said that world-building would be easy,” she reminded them, “And we’ve been lucky enough over the past 4,600 years that things have been relatively easy to manage. But the world has grown larger and more crowded, and with it the potential for mistakes to happen. We looked away, we took our hands off of the people, and they choked on the freedom to do the wrong things that they discovered in our absence. I don’t think that Karkat returning now of all times is a coincidence.”

“When you put things like that it does smell too convenient,” Terezi noted.

Karkat listened closely to their words as he made a mental list of things to question Dave about later. Intensely question. He might even need to draw up a chart to keep things organized, because he felt like most of this was flying right over his head. Derse? Prospit? What the actual fuck?

“John was the one who put me on the topic originally,” Rose said, nodding to the god of the skies. “But we all know that the aspect of Blood has existed in a dormant state ever since Karkat disappeared. Not only is his return the wakeup call that we need to right some wrongs of the world that we mistakenly let slip through, but he himself may be the catalyst we need to set things right again.”

Again, for emphasis, what the actual fuck?

“False!” Terezi yelled, ready to debate. “That theory would require that Karkat’s return be facilitated by a third party with detailed knowledge of what the state of the world would be like from before this universe was ever created. Impossible.”

“No, improbable,” Rose argued. “We still don’t know everything about SBURB and how it works, or what happened with that other great mystery about that fateful day that has plagued us since the final gate was realized.”

“Don’t you dare blame Calliope for this,” The Rouge of Void jumped up, and light crackled from the Maid of Life so that tree roots pushed up through the stone at her feet. The glow from the runes and godsigns flashed with light that tore away the calm darkness of the night so fast that Karkat threw up an arm to shield his eyes from the glare. The entire top of the hill trembled with the sudden spike of energy, and the coins in Karkat’s mouth were growing noticeably hotter. He swallowed thickly. 

“Easy there,” Dave warned, cautioning his two sisters while remaining frustratingly cool. “There are simpler ways to give Canton a lightshow other than ripping off the top of this hill.”

The trembling stopped, and the runes slowly retuned to a steady glow. The Maid returned to her place while Rose and Void shared a sharp but sad look.

“All I’m saying is that it can’t be a coincidence,” Rose said carefully, rubbing at her temples with her fingertips. “The two of them had to have been connected. Roxy, you knew her better than most of us. Is there any smallest thing you may have missed?”

“She never said a thing about opening the gate until the end,” Roxy’s eyes glowed hotly. “Not even to me.” The god looked downcast and ancient. The navy of her robes and the mask that obscured half of her face only strengthened the illusion of grief.

“Uhh, can I be sayin something?” A troll dressed in the purple of the Bard spoke up. “I know I’m not the most, uh, fuckin active motherfucker here, but ain’t it seem like there’s a common thread all up and tied around the middle of this?” His words were calm, but there was a manic energy twisting through the air around him and coiled between the tall lyre shapes of this horns. Each time Karkat looked at him he felt the coins in his mouth flare with a painful heat until he was forced to look away again. He could almost taste the madness that Dave had warned about on his tongue, held at bay by the gold in his mouth.

“Which is?” Rose asked curiously.

“Sacrifice,” Doom answered for him while the Bard nodded his agreement. “The final gate required a sacrifice to create.”

“And I’m calling a stop right there,” Dave quickly interjected, his voice slightly hurried.

Karkat’s vision swam, and something happened to one of the coins in his mouth. There was a flash of scalding heat and a jolt that shot up his teeth and into the center of his skull. The blow was so quick the troll couldn’t react to it before the feeling passed. He could feel the now dead coin sitting heavy in his mouth, and he didn’t dare take it out to check on it. The remaining coin burned warmer and he could hear static in his ears.

John held out a hand, and a cool breeze ran across the troll’s fevered skin. “Thanks,” he croaked.

“I suggest we move on,” Breath said cautiously, “we don’t know what happened, and we have no way of finding out right now.”

“I agree,” Dave quickly replied. His pale brows were drawn up with worry.

“Hemocaste cultists,” Terezi said, “to bring back the more pressing issue. They’re escalading and they need to stop.” Her green robes were briefly the red and teal garb Karkat had seen in the courtblock, but the illusion didn’t last. 

“Your justice didn’t work out so well last time,” Dave said, quiet and reserved in a way that made ice creep across the stone of the circle. Around the hilltop of the Point, the seasons lost their order. The moon hung still in the sky above them.

“We got him, didn’t we?” The Seer said, “We won. We got the head cultist, plus a whole slew of other ones that weren’t involved in the case at all. If I hadn’t started that riot, dozens would have gotten away.”

“You say that like the riot was your idea all along,” Vriska said, “when really it was just a lucky break.”

“Anyway,” John said, rising his hammer to bang it until they fell into order again, “the hemocaste was outlawed for a reason. The world will not suffer under its oppressive doctrine. That was one of the first rules we made.”

“They’ve probably got a leader,” Vriska said, her unnatural eye shining with light. “Someone they can rally around.”

“Feferi?” John asked softly. “They’re most likely following a tyrian. How many of those are there right now?”

“A good handful,” the Witch signed, her fuchsia eyes sad. “I hoped that they would turn out better this time.”

“People can be bad,” Dave said, shrugging. “It’s not your fault. I gave them the swords that they use on each other, remember? Free will comes with evil. We can’t edit out the bad without erasing free will.”

“Which,” John said, “We also agreed on them having.”

“So,” Rose said. “The plan. Find the leader, stop them, and solve the carapacian tension before it escalates into a full scale civil war.”

“Why are they even fighting this time?” the Page asked. “Didn’t we try to abolish Derse and Prospit long ago? Wasn’t everyone supposed to be the same?”

“They have that coding wired into them still from the game,” Rose said grimly, “To divide into the separate kingdoms and wage war against each other.”

“Like trolls with the hemocaste,” the Prince of Hope said, sighing. “It makes some fuckin weird sense.”

“Okay,” John said, “That’s the plan. Be more active, let the people see us acting through the world. Give them hope again and stop the cultists before anything that we can’t fix happens. Settle the black and white kingdoms into peace again. Fix the wrongs.”

“And how exactly are we meant to do that?” The Rouge of Heart asked, tail flicking.

“There’s a hurricane gaining strength out at sea,” John said, his voice ominous. “It’s been strengthening all day. The coastal towns have noticed it and are bracing for the storm. If left unchecked the damage will be catastrophic. Hundreds of people will die.” Breath’s eyes were glowing, and the wind was howling through the wind flutes so that the air vibrated with it. “I’ll turn the storm back out to sea like I always do, but this time I’ll make sure everyone knows that I stopped it. I’ll let the people see me shatter the eye and break the storm apart into soft rains for their fields. I’ll show them that we still care.”

“So we do as we normally would,” Jade said, her ears up and excited. “But we let them know it’s us?”

“Nothing too big,” John cautioned, “but enough to let them feel remembered and important. Enough to let them know they’re not alone.”

“I’ll do it,” Jade promised.

“Me too,” Roxy said.

“I’m in,” Rose said, her answer echoed by the dozen other gods.

“All it can take,” Dave said, and everyone stopped to stare at the Knight of Time as he spoke. “Is one small thing. Small things lead to big things. I never believed that things would be easy, but making this world was one of the best things we’ve done and I won’t ever regret it. Remember when this world was nothing but a barren rock identical to the hundreds of thousands of countless other barren rocks we hung around the stars?” Dave was wearing that outfit again, the red one with the cape that felt softer than velvet. It was fluttering out behind his shoulders in the light breeze and his eyes were clear and earnest and only for Karkat. “We made this home, and I’m not letting one road bump ruin what we’ve built here.”

Karkat couldn’t breathe and he thought he finally knew why, but he remembered Time’s plea for more time. Later, later, there would be time for it all later, but even then the gap that stretched between the scarce space between them echoed with the thousands of years it had taken to meet face to face again. 

“And with that,” The Heir of Breath said, “I call this 413 to a close.”

The hammer’s fall rang throughout the landscape with a crack of thunder, and when the echo had faded the light was beginning to die away. The runes lost their glow and the air it shimmer. A few of them lingered, but most of the gods were quick to vanish and fade away.

The change was startling after the overdose of magic from before, and when the circle broke it did so with a snap.

All at once, Dave and Karkat were alone again. Or, nearly alone. One god had remained behind, her black robes woven of the sky itself.

“Karkat,” she greeted him, “I would like to offer you all of the apologies that you think are necessary. We should not have given up searching for you, even with the circumstances what they were. You did not deserve that.”

“Kanaya,” Karkat answered, “There’s no need for that. I don’t blame anyone for what might have happened.”

“Still,” the Sylph mused, a hint of slim fangs peeking out the corners of her painted lips, “I had hoped dearly to see you again.”

“Me too.” The words came from a deep place inside him, and they tasted true.

Her gray skin flared brighter as if she was lit from within. “Oh,” she said, raising a hand to her face. “I almost don’t want to leave now.” Space’s voice was roughened, though she hid it well. “May I?”

The god of Space dipped down to embrace him and Karkat threw his arms around her neck, confident that he at least remembered this much.

 

End of Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW MUCH DOUBLE MEANING CAN I CRAM INTO A SINGLE CHAPTER?!?!  
> Turns out the answer is A LOT.
> 
> But, this chapter means so much to me though. It's the basis around which the rest of the fic ordered itself. Kanaya.. I've been waiting on that part for a while and my heart can't take it. At last, they're all together but there's still so much that I need to do to give this story it's true ending. This is the final stretch guys.
> 
> Onwards and upwards to Part Three! We're doing it! We're doing it...


	10. The Truth is in the Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello it's me, your friendly neighborhood Davekat dealer and I've got some Good Shit today.
> 
> Here's the new chapter ;)

Beginning of Part Three.

 

Karkat was dreaming.

He felt the smoothness of metal at his back, the strange material far too uniform to be of wood or stone. Above him hung a span of sky he had never seen before, an inky blackness undisturbed by blue and hung with more stars than he could imagine. It stretched on endlessly beyond the horizon, where the sky continued downwards into where the missing ground should have been, but he felt no fear even though the troll knew he was just a small speck on a smaller speck floating through such a vast expanse that it was beyond his imagination or comprehension to try and give it shape or form. Outside the boundaries of the Furthest Ring, reality was like that. Everything and nothing all at once.

There was someone sitting at the edge of the drop, their legs dangling over where the sky revealed a hint of its true depth. Looking down into it was like gazing upwards. Stars above, and stars below. 

Karkat walked over to where Dave sat. The Knight’s cape was draped across the metal floor and pooled crimson behind him.

“Karkat?”

“It’s me,” the troll answered. He sat beside Dave, so close that their legs were touching. “What are you doing up here?”

Dave huffed, one side of his mouth quirking up as he turned to the troll. “It’s quiet up here. I just wanted some time to think.” There were black lenses across his eyes that blocked out most of his expression, but Karkat could still read the human.

“It’s strange, ya know?” Dave continued, “I always thought I was done with rooftops, but I keep finding myself up here.”

In the dream Karkat couldn’t feel the bolt of pain that lashed through him at the words, but it’s echo sang bitter. He leaned into the human, slowly, like he was expecting rejection. Dave shifted just enough so that the troll fit against him perfectly.

“What were you thinking about?” Karkat asked as Dave gently traced his fingers through the troll’s hair, lingering at the side of his face.

“Nothing really,” Dave shrugged. “Just old stuff I guess. Do you think we’ll ever get over it? Everything that’s happened?”

Karkat moved closer, chasing the human’s touch until he could look past the black lenses over the other knight’s face to read the red eyes he knew Dave was hiding.

“We will,” Karkat promised. “We’re going to win.”

“Yeah, I might be starting to believe that,” Dave laughed, a quiet sound. “What do you think it’ll be like?”

Dave felt warm and relaxed where Karkat curled into him. His own hand came up to cup Dave’s cheek in his palm, their faces only inches apart. “I don’t care,” Karkat growled. “Just promise me something, will you?”

“Anything,” Dave breathed, swearing it. “I’ll do anything you ask.”

“Don’t leave me,” Karkat asked, his fingers tightening as he held onto Dave. “No matter what happens, don’t leave me.”

“Never,” Dave promised, his lips only a fraction of a centimeter away as Karkat tilted his chin up to meet them.

When he woke up, Karkat was crying.

All of the dulled emotions and responses from the dream slammed into him and deep in his pocket he felt the last genesis coin crack with a flare of heat. His arm came up to brush against where he could almost remember Dave’s lips on his as he choked on his own breath.

Dave hadn’t been sleeping. He never slept, and when he heard Karkat draw in a shuddering breath he had jumped to his feet. “Karkat?”

The troll couldn’t answer. His chest felt like it was coming apart, fire buried inside of his ventricles to burn him from the inside out with the pain of waking up as he let out an anguished snarl.

“Karkat?” Dave was coming closer. The troll could see him coming through the blur of the tears in his eyes. “Karkat what is it? What’s wrong?”

“You- you,” he stuttered, clutching at where waves of pain were radiating from his heart as images from the dream kept slamming into him, so strong that he doubled over.

“Karkat?” Time sounded afraid, and that was what made the troll drag together a scrap of control as the threat of yet more memories sucked at his mind.

“Dave,” he choked out, still shaking. “Did you love me?”

“What?” the Knight said, his red eyes widening. 

Karkat didn’t need him to answer. He knew this was the later Dave had asked for, the rising tide that had been building around him over the span of this entire journey, a knowledge compiled and cobbled together out of a thousand hints he’d been so far refusing to link together. “Dave, did you love me?” He repeated, louder now as his claws dug into his palms.

“Yes,” Dave said, unable to lie as his face broke open. His mask was gone, and he looked so afraid. His pale face looked naked without the black lenses to cover the damnable red of his eyes. 

“Did I love you back?” Karkat demanded, needing to know. 

Dave stared at him, and the god of Time looked ancient and far too young all at once. “You did.”

The troll reeled away, his heart pounding. “Oh gods,” he said, the true reality of his dream sinking in. “I did. I know I did. I loved you so much.”

Dave flinched back like Karkat had hit him, and the troll couldn’t imagine how much those words had to have hurt him. “What gave it away?” 

“Everything,” Karkat forced out. “I had a dream, but even before that I knew.”

“What dream?”

“We were in the sky of stars,” Karkat said, “talking about things. I kissed you.” His fingers still sat at his lips in disbelief. “I made you promise-” he gasped, really crying now. Tears started rolling down his face. “I made you promise not to leave me, but I’m the one who left.” The realization stole what little breath he’d managed to regain and the fault line of his heart ruptured as his face twisted in pain.

Dave stepped forward too fast for his eyes to follow, but he was right there, his hands soothing and far too familiar as he brushed away the troll’s tears. “Shhhh,” he said, “Don’t think about that. It’s okay. It’s all okay now.” His voice was dull and lifeless, but it was a carefully constructed façade. The god was also coming apart at the seams- and Karkat hated it.

“No it’s not!” Karkat spat, “It’s not okay. I left you.” He couldn’t stop himself from clinging to the god, his hands clutching at the front of Dave’s shirt. “I left you…”

“I waited,” Dave said, desperate and in pain, “Karkat, I waited for you. You’re here now- it’s all okay.”

“Do you still love me?” Karkat asked, the burning question overtook anything else in his mind. “Dave?”

He didn’t think that he would survive the pain of rejection, but he didn’t need to hear the Knight of Time’s answer. The truth was in his eyes.

Dave said, “I never stopped loving you.”

It was easy for Karkat to close the distance between them. His lips already burned with the memory of kissing Dave, but his faulty memories didn’t hold a candle to the real thing.

Kissing Dave was like breathing. It ran through him like cool water on a hot day, like dusting off the pages of an old book to start reading again. It was like every one of those stars from the dream were swimming in his eyes, and his hands were still knotted at the front of Dave’s chest and the god’s mouth was on his and for a shining instant everything was right with the world.

Then Karkat’s thinkpan caught up to his actions and screamed out a bolt of panic- HE WAS KISSING A GOD FOR FUCK’S SAKE- but Dave melted into the kiss with a gasped sigh, his mouth moving with Karkat’s in a way that made his panicked brain shut the hell up. 

It was far better than any memory could ever be, and a giddiness bubbled through him as the absurdity of the situation. 

Dave was the one who broke the kiss first, to argue, “But you don’t remember me.”

Karkat kissed him again, growling, “I don’t need my memories to know you.” He threw himself at Dave, desperate to get closer while the god embraced him.

“Are you sure?” Dave asked, his fingers jittering as he laced them behind the troll’s neck.

“Holy fuck Dave,” Karkat said, his breathing heavy. “Do you ever shut up?”

The Knight of Time laughed, light and true, right before his lips sought out Karkat’s again. His touch was electric, like the buzz of lightning.

This was where Karkat was supposed to be, right here, tangled in the god of Time’s arms and breathing him in with every breath. Missing memories be damned- this was the answer he’d been searching for all along. 

He kissed Dave again, and it felt like coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ATTEMPTS HIGHLY DANGEROUS TABLE FLIP x2 COMBO*
> 
>  
> 
> But yeah, school and work hit hard. I'll still get these next chapters up and posted soon. This last part... mwahahahahaha


	11. Easy Mornings Where Time Passes Quickly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes so sorry I'm late guys SCHOOL IS HARD and i have 5 exams next week haha rip my life
> 
> anyway- the next chapter:...

The morning broke gentle. The grass was light and soft under him and Karkat was warm and slow to shake off his sleep. A purr rumbled from deep in his chest as he pressed closer against where warmth was radiating at his back and side. He left out a sigh, fully prepared to go back to sleep, but he felt the gentle touch of clawless fingers brush past his temple and the realization sunk in.

For the second time, Karkat lifted his head and opened his eyes to find that he was using the god of Time’s chest and shoulder as a pillow. Dave was watching him cautiously, his hand frozen and his face wary and uncertain.

Karkat’s purr strengthened and he lowered his cheek back to Dave’s chest. The god’s heartbeat was steady in his ear as Dave’s hand returned to its gentle motion with wordless relief. “Hey there,” the troll said, his voice still husky with sleep. “Is it morning yet?”

The sun was still below the horizon, but it was rapidly brightening. The dusky gray was being overtaken by blue and the grass was looking greener by the second.

“Not quite yet,” Dave said, slowly relaxing again. “You can go back to sleep. There’s no hurry.”

Karkat grunted and let his eyes flutter closed. The blanket was bunched up around his shoulders and he was certain that he was laying across Dave’s arm, but he’d never been more comfortable in his life. 

Dave was humming something, just at the edge of Karkat’s hearing. He couldn’t pick up the words, but it was low and soothing. “I thought we were in a hurry?” he asked, his eyes still closed. “Crazy cultists and all that shit,” he mumbled, unwilling to move ever again. He could lie here beside Dave forever.

“Yeah,” Dave said, “but it can wait.”

Karkat let himself drift between awake and asleep until the sun was bright enough to rouse him. When he let his eyes crack open, resigned to being awake, Dave was smiling. The sun was bright in a cloudless sky, and their horses were grazing under the trees. Everything felt like it was going to be okay.

“Sleep well?” Dave asked as Karkat pushed himself upright and stretched. The tightness in his back had relaxed, and all of the kinks and aches that came with sleeping on the ground were missing. 

“I did,” he said, yawning. He felt better than he had in a long time. “So…”

He let the question trail away. He still had a hundred different questions, and fears, and all of insecurities that came with kissing one of the gods and its inherent heresy and probable blasphemy, but Dave looked content and for once unbothered and the rest of the question died on his lips. He rephrased. “What are we going to do today?”

Dave picked a small piece of dried grass from his hair and flicked it away. “Feferi asked me to drop in on a tyrianblood who lives just outside of Canton and see if they’ve heard anything,” he said, “I was thinking about checking with them to see if there’s been any cultist bullshit afoot.”

“A tyrian?” Karkat asked curiously. “If anything, they should at least have heard of something.”

“That’s what Feferi thinks,” Dave said, shrugging. “I’m not sure if I’d believe them if they say the cultists haven’t at the very least paid a visit.”

“I’ve never met a tyrianblood before,” Karkat said. “Aren’t they all supposed to be near the coast?”

“Most of them stay closer to the shore,” Dave admitted, “Not this one though. He’s some big trade guru if Feferi’s info is correct.”

“Huh,” Karkat said, reluctantly shaking of the last of the blankets. “So, Canton then?”

“The city of many temples,” Dave said, grinning playfully. “I need to check on something in the Great Temple, so it’s not out of the way.”

“What do you need to check on?” Karkat asked curiously.

Dave’s expression froze just long enough for the troll to catch it, before the god moved on like nothing had happened. “I can tell you on the way,” he said. “It’s a long story.”

Karkat helped roll up the bedroll and the blankets. The fire had gone out hours ago, and Dave stirred the cold ashes apart to extinguish the few coals that remained. 

The troll’s chestnut mare nipped at him in greeting when he went over to saddle her, all lips and no teeth. “It’s odd,” Karkat commented as he tightened the straps. “I didn’t think that the Page’s charm would last so long.”

“It didn’t,” Dave said, his back turned as he patted his horse’s neck. “That charm wore off days ago.”

Karkat froze and side-eyed his mare, expecting her gentle nibbles to turn to bites at any moment. “What the fuck,” he said. “So why hasn’t she been trying to kill me?”

Dave laughed as the mare pushed her head under the baffled troll’s arm, demanding attention.

“I think she’s made up her mind about you by now,” the god said. “I just don’t think she’s fond of strangers.”

Karkat carefully scratched at the mare’s ears. He wasn’t sure if he trusted the crazy horse. She’d thrown him once already and he wasn’t keen to repeat the experience. 

The mare made no move to bite him as he put his foot through the stirrup and hauled himself into place. “Well then,” he said, “as long as she doesn’t bite me in the ass again we might be able to make this work.”

Dave laughed as they headed off into the trees. The road was well-traveled and the wagon tracks through the trees were wide and clear.

For once Karkat didn’t feel the burning need to ask questions, even with the clusterfuck that was last night. He was content to ride beside the god of Time and not look any deeper into what had happened between them. He was done with overthinking everything and trying to force things to make sense- now he was going to just fucking roll with it. He had kissed Dave, and that was great, and Dave had kissed him back, and that was almost better, and there was no reason to drive himself insane trying to make things make sense when clearly nothing in his life made sense and probably never would again.

But…

“Hey, Dave?” he asked. “What happens now?” That was okay, wasn’t it? He was allowed to wonder about what came next. 

“You’re not asking about the cultists are you?” Dave said lightly. He turned to look at the troll, and his eyes were warm.

“No, I’m not,” Karkat admitted.

“Yeah,” Dave started, a small smile on his face. “I don’t know either. Things… What do you want to happen next?”

“Me?” Karkat asked, recognizing the deflection. “Why ask me?”

“Why not?” Dave countered. “It’s as much up to you as it is up to me.”

That wasn’t helpful in the least, and he was so over this dancing between them. “That’s a piss-poor deflection,” Karkat said. “Dave, I get that there’s this huge history between us that I don’t know, and I understand how problematic that is. What I want to know now is this- What do you want from me?”

Dave didn’t answer.

“Oh come on,” Karkat prompted, “You’ve had more than enough time to think ahead to things that I haven’t even considered yet. I know enough of you to know that much. What do you want to happen next? With us?”

“Karkat,” Dave said, pulling his horse to a stop. “Without the dream to prompt you last night, would you ever have considered me as someone other than a god?”

“What?” That response wasn’t something Karkat had considered, and it threw him off for a moment. 

“Would you?” Dave repeated.

“That’s the wrong question,” Karkat argued. “Dave, I’ve always known you were a god. That doesn’t mean that I thought you weren’t a person or that it’s some fucking barrier between us.”

“Oh,” Dave said, his eyes slightly wider than before. “That’s… that’s actually really good to know.”

“Gods. You can be such a moron, Dave,” Karkat joked, but the relief on Dave’s face made his heart feel warm. Had he really been concerned?

“Sorry,” Dave said. “I’m, it’s- I’m still getting through some things,” he said slowly, “I might be the single happiest person in all of existence right now, and it still feels unreal to me.”

“You are?”

“Yes,” the god answered. “Karkat, you are currently riding beside me. You know my name, my real name, and you know enough about me to grasp most of who I am. You, who I thought I’d never see again, are back and you’re here and…”

“And what?” Karkat asked, his heart in his throat. 

“And I wouldn’t trade this for anything,” Dave vowed. “If I had to wait another four thousand years to see you- I’d do it.”

The words soothed the uncertainty the troll was still harboring. “You know,” he commented, “if you weren’t eight feet away and on horseback, I’d be tempted to kiss you again.”

There, there it was. Dave’s shy smile, small but glowing. “You’re still an awful person,” he said, grinning playfully. “I’m languishing away after an unfair 4,600 year kissing drought, and then you go and say something like that. My lips are going to shrivel up and fall off from lack of use. I’ll-”

Karkat let the god rant with a smile on his face. Once Dave got going on one of his fast-paced metaphors, there was no stopping him. The chatter filled the air nicely.

“Oh, wait,” Karkat interrupted, just remembering something. “I forgot to give you these back.” He rummaged through his pockets until he had both of the gold coins and looked at them. The blank side of each coin was scored by a thick, deep gash, like something had gouged a sharp blade across the metal.

Dave’s horse drifted closer and he glanced at the pair of coins without much reaction. “Keep them,” he said, “they might help out when- wait.” His pulled his horse to a stop, his eyes flashing crimson.

“What is it?” Karkat asked, instinctively stopping as well.

“Only one was spent at the Point. I remember only one coin was spent,” the god said, his voice low and quiet in a way that made Karkat know something serious was going on. “What happened to the second coin?”

“It broke,” Karkat answered simply. “Last night, when I woke up from dreaming. It broke in my pocket.”

“May I?” Dave asked, and Karkat handed him the coins. The god of Time ran his fingers across the gash in the back of one, his face expressionless as that hand clenched into a fist. “That’s impossible,” he said. “Are you sure that’s when it broke?

“Very sure,” Karkat said, his skin crawling. “I thought it’d burned my leg.”

Dave was silent. “Do you know how Genesis coins work and what they’re used for?”

“Maybe,” Karkat said. “Protection, right?”

“They can be,” Dave said. He flipped one coin into the air and caught it across the backs of his knuckles, scratched-side up. “Roxy makes them. She weaves void into the gold and it absorbs ambient magic until it’s filled up- then it breaks. They’re used to protect mortals from accidentally undoing themselves in the presence of something holy or if they’re around wild magic.”

“So that’s why there was a bowl of them at the Point,” Karkat said.

“They’re for pilgrims who climb up the Point to meditate and say prayers,” Dave said, skillfully bouncing the coin through his fingers so fast that the gold danced. “There’s a lot of old magic woven into the stones there and it can be unsafe for mortals at certain times. That’s why I gave them to you, and it’s also why one broke during 413.”

“Oh,” Karkat said, raising his eyebrows. He looked at the coin still sitting calmly on the back of Dave’s other hand and the ugly scratch that marred it. “So why did the other one break?”

Dave’s face was very grave. He handed the coins back to Karkat without a word. 

“Dave,” Karkat said, “You’re doing it again. What are you thinking?”

“I just need to check on that thing I mentioned earlier than I thought,” Dave said quietly, swallowing thickly. He sounded breathless.

“Is that all you’re going to tell me?” Karkat demanded, “Really? After everything that’s happened you’re still keeping secrets?”

“Just this one,” Dave said quickly, “Just for a little while longer. Please, trust me.”

Karkat forced his mouth to close. He bit off the scathing argument and brash rant he had been letting simmer, and he swallowed it down with a gulp. “Okay,” he said, his claws digging into the leather of his reigns, “I’ll drop it. For now.”

“Thank you,” Dave said, relieved.

“That doesn’t mean I’m out of questions,” Karkat warned. “Seriously? What the fuck Dave? What happens next?”

“What happens next.” Dave said, “is we fix the world. Consider yourself a god in training Karkat.”

“A what now?” he asked, incredulous and disbelieving.

“A god in training,” Dave said, his face smug. “You’re still one of us, and you have several thousand years’ worth of catching up to do. That’s a lot of fucking homework- trust me.”

“I’m not a god Dave,” Karkat reminded him. “And unlike you, I never was.”

“You will be,” Dave promised, his red eyes glowing.

Karkat, for the first time, considered the fact that Dave was serious. “I really am the Lost god,” he said out loud, so that he could hear the words for himself.

Dave nodded, solemn. “You are.”

“What does that mean?” Karkat asked. “There isn’t some way to make someone into a god, is there?” He imagined some ritual, circles of circles, chanting, and he shuddered. The scabs around his still-healing wrists ached.

“No,” Dave said. “There isn’t. That would be impossible.”

Karkat heard the unspoken but in the god’s voice. “Go on,” he prompted, narrowing his eyes at Dave. “I’m listening.”

“But I know a way to bring you back into your proper form,” Dave said. “It’s something that only works because it’s you.”

“And I’m?” Karkat asked.

“The Knight of Blood,” Dave said, and he watched carefully as the words shuddered their way down the troll’s spine.

Karkat took a deep breath to steady himself. He’d already known the name for a while now, but this was the first time he’d heard it addressed to him and his heartbeat was pounding in his ears like a drum. 

“So you’re saying that I’m going to become a god,” Karkat asked weakly, just to clarify.

“Yes,” Dave said. “That’s the only option.”

“That actually sounds terrifying,” Karkat laughed and it sounded shaky. “Will I get my memories back?”

“I think that part is up to you,” Dave said, earnestly. “Karkat, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t feel comfortable about. If this is too fast or too much, let me know. If you want me to fuck off I can do that. If you don’t want any of this to happen that’s okay. I’m not going to force you to do or feel anything.”

Karkat knew he wasn’t just talking about magic shit anymore. “Dave,” he said. “Are you okay with this? With me?”

“What are you asking?”

“You’ve been on your own for so long,” Karkat said, swallowing thickly. His throat felt tight. “And it was completely my fault because I’m the one that left you behind. And now I’m suddenly back and fucking things up and I just need to hear you say that it’s okay. I need to hear you say that you actually want to be around me, that I haven’t fucked up things between us by being a revolting asshole who can’t grasp basic social-“

Dave moved too fast for him to see, and his hand grasped at the troll’s claws and tightened. “I do,” he said quickly. “Yes. Yes I want you with me.”

Karkat squeezed his fingers back. Dave loved him, Karkat knew he did, but hearing him say it made things easier. “Even from the beginning?”

“I was kind of crushed that you didn’t remember me,” Dave explained, “But even then… I was so happy to see you. Nothing else mattered. After I was sure that you were really you and Rose and Terezi confirmed some things about what happened, I was fully resolved to pull an Adam Sandler and Fifty First Dates’ the shit out of you, because of course I still loved you and if you didn’t remember me I thought that was just my chance to do things over and do them right this time, but then you had to go and remember that bit on your own and now all of my perfectly timed references and one-liners will go to waste.” The god’s tone had gone playful again as he lamented the loss of his chance at yet more lame one-liners. 

“I only understand fifty percent of that,” Karkat stated. He was blown away be the chillness that the god had about the whole affair. “Was it really that simple for you?”

“Yep,” Dave said. “From the instant I saw your face, back in my hidden chambers, with your hair still tousled up from being hooded and blood dripping from your fingertips, I loved you. And I wasn’t ever going to stop trying to get you to love me back.”

Karkat wiped away the wetness from his eyes. He wasn’t crying-HE WASN’T, but… he was just so goddamn lucky. “Hey Dave,” he said.

“Yeah?” The Knight of Time gave him a long look, and his red eyes were crinkled at the edges with happiness.

“Thank you,” Karkat said, and he steered his horse over so that he was close enough to grab Dave’s hand and grasp his fingers with a wordless thanks as they continued down the road to Canton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I know it's a slow chapter, but I felt the need to add in more slow bonding between them before these last chapters start the hard drive to the end. It's about to be non-stop from here on out. Here comes attack of the plot!
> 
> Also, I need more practice writing fluff...
> 
> Anyway!  
> If you think this chapter gave you questons-Great!  
> If you think that you have answers or that you know where this is going- You don't.   
> Seriously when has anything in this fic gone like how you thought it would? I'm trying new things here and the ending... hehehe


	12. When Time Slows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should start posting more regularly after this update now that exams are over.
> 
> so here, have the next chapter

Canton was a sprawling mess of a city. The bricked roads caught and magnified the sound of the horse’s hooves and bounced the sound off of the high walls of stone and wood buildings that leaned into each other like sagging trees. Windows showed the insides of shops and bakeries and cobblers. On the hill behind the city sat the circular mass of the Great Temple, its spires thrust at the sky and cluttered with the specks of pigeons at roost.

It seemed like every street corner had its own shrine, and the alleys were each decorated to one of the gods. Karkat rode past edifices to the Maid of Time, made of lashed together ram’s skulls with digging spades for spines. The spiral-horned scarecrows stood guard from the mouths of alleys, each one armed with a long whip. The godsign of Breath was painted underfoot in blue along the streets, and the city took pride in cramming as much color and flare into showing their love of the gods as physically possible. Riding through the city’s center was an assault to the senses, and the troll had never seen so much stained glass in one place before.

Canton was caught up in celebrating the Day of Silence, one of the Rouge’s holy days. The streets were filled with pilgrims and worshippers, their faces masked in dark blue, and musicians walked the streets as the festival wore on and filled the air with so much noise that no place in the city was silent.

It was a day for keeping secrets and thanking the Rouge for acting as secret-keeper to the masses, and with each masked person that ran by, clanging bells and blowing on flutes to blanket the city with as much useless noise as possible, Dave’s smile grew wider.

“Have you ever been to a festival before?” the god asked, dipping close to the troll so his voice could be heard over the chaos around them. He was back in his inconspicuous traveler’s clothes, and the pair of them didn’t stand out in the crowd. Overhead, a single black-feathered crow followed their movements.

“Not really,” Karkat said. A gang of children ran past his mare and she drew up and startled, snorting as her ears flicked in irritation. “Are they always like this?”

“Mostly,” Dave answered, unbothered by the throngs of people. “Though this is just a small festival. You should see a few of the larger ones! Jegus, Canton can throw a good fucking party.”

“You call this small?” Karkat complained as he struggled to stay to the left of the curb. “How much farther to this tyrian fucker’s hive?”

“We’re nearly there,” Dave answered. “I know a place nearby where we can board our horses until it’s time to leave.”

“I’ll follow you then,” Karkat sighed. “I’m not really a big city person.” The amount of people breathing around him made his skin crawl and he felt hot and itchy as he followed Dave through the crowd. 

The stablewoman was glad to accept their horses and promised them a good keep in exchange for the silver Dave produced from his pocket. Trolls and humans mingled freely in the streets as Dave led the way to a three story brick and stone building. Its front was lavish, nearly gaudy with blues and violets, and accented with mosaics of waves. It was definitely a seadweller’s hive. They kept the shoreline in their hearts, and even here, far from the sea, they drug a little of the ocean with them wherever they went.

“Let’s see if he’s home,” Dave said, and he marched right up the walkway and knocked in the front door.

“Wait!” Karkat hissed, looking around for the guards that must have been on duty. Only a fool would leave such a grand hive unguarded, but he saw no one.

The door was opened from the inside, and a blue-eyed man greeted them with faint derision. “The master is not in,” he said, the sides of his mouth drooping unpleasantly. “If you have business with him, please come back later.”

Dave put his foot in the doorway as the man made to close the door and wedged it open, still smiling. “We’re not here on business,” he said, “But I promise you, he’ll be glad to see us.”

The man studied them hard, his gaze lingering over the dust and the dirt caked to Karkat’s clothes. “I doubt that,” he said, his tone still kindly condescending. He tried discreetly to shove Dave’s foot out of the way, to slam the door, but the god didn’t budge.

Dave held up two gold coins. “One hour’s time,” he said. “No questions asked.”

The man’s eyes widened at the gold. “You are both unarmed?” He asked, his grip on the door loosening as Dave spoke the language of the powerful and elite. 

“Yes, and we’re only here to talk,” Dave promised. “We were never here.”

Still, the man hesitated. “What sort of talk?”

“No harm will come to him from our visit,” Dave assured the man. “We’re actually here to help.”

After a long moment, the man broke. “Fine,” he said, opening the door all the way. “But if the master himself has you thrown out its none of my concern.”

“As you were,” Dave agreed, and the gold exchanged hands.

Karkat had never been in such a large hive before. The floors were white marble and a massive staircase dominated the center of the room.

“He’s in his study,” the man said, already drifting away with the coins safely tucked out of sight. “You’ll find him top floor, to the left.”

Karkat said nothing as they climbed the stairs. Now alone, Dave frowned and looked down at himself. “Maybe the doorman had a point,” he said, and his outfit shifted and blurred. Between one second and the next, Dave was wearing the simplified finery of one of the city’s elite. Black boots, a loose fitting red silk shirt, and dark pants belted at the hip. He wore no sword, unlike any other of his assumed station, but Karkat knew that the god of swords didn’t need to go about openly armed.

“There,” Dave said smugly, “Now I fit right in.”

“Yeah,” Karkat said, “But that’s not so easy for me.” He’d been sleeping on the ground for several days, riding hard and getting thrown from horses, and he was sure that he looked it. His hair was a mess of snarls and knots, and there was no salvaging the ruin of his pants.

Dave waved away the troll’s concerns, unbothered, his eyes focused on the door at the end of the short hall. “We can get you some new clothes afterwards,” he said. “It shouldn’t matter much.”

The thick door wasn’t locked and Dave knocked before sliding it open.

The tower room was a mess. Papers were scattered everywhere, and books were strewn about on tables and counters. A vase had fallen, and shattered blue glass and dried flowers huddled in the corner on the floor, forgotten. It was the scene of a disaster.

“Who goes there?” A voice thundered, and from around the corner emerged a huge seadweller with a crossbow in his hands.

Dave reacted quickly. He stepped in front of Karkat and kept his voice low and steady. “Easy,” he said, lifting a hand. “We’re only here to talk.”

Karkat startled, his hands in fists as he held back a snarl at the sight of the crossbow pointed at Dave. He edged around the god’s protective side to get a better look.

“Who sent you?” The tyrianblood demanded. He was a tall troll, slim and muscular, with upthrown horns that added another two feet to his intimidating height. The hands that held the crossbow trained on Dave were steady. Rings adorned his fingers, and gold studs his finned ears. His eyes glinted with the highest shade of blood in the land, and Karkat swallowed back the instinctive urge to run.

“No one sent us,” Dave said, still calm and even. “I just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“Are you two of Teffen’s goons?” The tyrian demanded again, gesturing with the crossbow, his face hard. “How did you get into my hive?”

“We knocked on the front door,” Dave deadpanned. “Listen, look. We’re unarmed and we’re not here to cause trouble, so maybe put down the crossbow. There’s no need for it here.”

The troll narrowed his eyes at them, checking for empty hands, but he slowly let the crossbow fall to the side. He set it down in easy reach on a side table, and he kept one hand near the sword at his hip. “What business do you have with me?”

Dave looked around the destroyed room. He asked, “are you going somewhere?” 

“That’s none of your concern,” the seadweller growled. 

“It looks like you’re having problems,” Dave said, “Why don’t you let us help? Is it the Hemocaste supporters? Have they been harassing you?”

At the word ‘hemocaste’, the troll flinched back like he’d been threatened. “Get out of my hive,” the seadweller growled, fins flaring. “Or I’ll force you out myself. Don’t think that I,” he broke off, sputtering as he looked at the god of Time. Dave stared back, his face carefully blank. “By the gods,” the seadweller breathed, “your eyes.”

Karkat quickly checked Dave’s face to see if he was doing any weird god shit, but his face was carefully human. The only thing that stood out was the scarlet of his eyes, unnaturally pronounced in the paleness of his face.

“They’ve been hounding you, haven’t they?” Dave asked, gentle.

The seadweller turned away, pinching at the bridge of his nose as he drew in a deep breath. “Who sent you?” He was quieter this time, wary of the answer. 

“The Witch of Life,” Dave said. He kept himself as human as possible, and even Karkat couldn’t feel the buzz and click of magic that hung around the god like a shroud. Dave could really blend in when he wanted too, and there should have been nothing too suspect in the pair of them.

The seadweller’s face tightened. “I don’t want to know who you are,” he growled, “I don’t want to know what you are. Just, what is it you want from me?”

“I know you’ve heard of them, the cultists” Dave said. He stepped closer. “Tell me, who is their leader? Is it a tyrainblood?”

“I’m not sure,” the troll admitted. “All I know is that I’ve built a good life here. I’m not going to fuck around with those lunatics, not when I have a family to consider.”

“So you’re leaving the city?” Karkat asked, wanting to understand.

“You know that won’t work for long,” Dave said.

The seadweller gave the god a long look. He grunted, sighing. “Something tells me that they won’t be a problem for much longer, will they? Not if the Witch is involved.”

“She does favor her tyrians,” Dave said. “But no. The hemospectrum was universally outlawed and it will soon crumple.”

“Says the red-eyed human who travels with a mutant,” the seadweller said. He returned to trying to pick up the paperwork scattered across the floor, packing the loose pages in books. “That’s all I know. That’s all I want to know. I’m not sticking around to ask questions, not when the Heir and the Seer have been spotted freely walking the countryside. And now the Witch herself!” he paused, his shoulders tensing. 

“You know,” he said slowly, “I never caught your names.”

“You don’t want to know them,” Dave answered. “Trust me.”

There was a swell of noise from the streets outside, the celebration still in full-swing. The troll turned away, “I don’t doubt that,” he said. “Teffen’s the one you’re wanting. He’s the violetblood in charge of giving the orders in Canton.” He let out a small chuckle. “Honestly, I was expecting laughsassins to find me, not patrons to the Witch.”

Karkat nearly corrected him, but he held his tongue. This wasn’t his call to make.

“We were never here,” Dave told the troll.

The seadweller dipped his head. “May the gods watch over us,” he said. “Because it’s about to turn into a shitstorm, you mark my words. You’d be smart too if you get out while you can.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Dave said lightly, “and I wish you and your family well.”

“Now go,” the seadweller said, “I’ve nothing left to say and a hive to finish packing up.”

“We’ll leave you to it then,” Dave said, and Karkat edged back out of the tower room and left the seadweller to his work.

Back outside, Dave turned to Karkat with a wink. “You did good in there,” he said.

“I barely said anything,” Karkat protested. “You did all the work.”

“Still,” Dave said, “I think he told us far more than he knew. Let’s go. We need to finish my work at the Great Temple before the festival ends.”

“Why’s that?” Karkat asked, jogging to keep up as Dave rejoined the crowds.

The god shrugged, still stewing over what he’d been told. “Roxy’s in this tangled mess somewhere and I’m sure she’s planning something.”

“She’s here? In Canton?” Karkat asked.

“Oh I’m sure of it,” Dave smiled, “she’s been following us this whole time.”

Karkat glanced around, and he saw nothing out of odds in between the colored banners that hung from the rooftops. He could see no sign of Void, but if Dave said she was here then she was here. Somewhere.

“What are we going to the Great Temple for?” Karkat asked, “you did say that you would explain on the way.”

Dave sidestepped a puddle and lend his arm to the troll. “Let’s get you some clothes first,” he compromised. “I’m not sure they would let you into the temple looking like that.”

“They can’t turn away worshippers,” Karkat scoffed at the god’s teasing. “No matter what they look like.”

“They can where we’re going,” Dave promised smugly.

Karkat scowled as he took Dave’s arm. “That’s cryptically unhelpful,” he said.

“Yep,” Dave said cheerfully, and he said nothing else, the overly vague fucker.

Karkat kept sneaking glances at the god as they maneuvered through the crowds of festival goers. Karkat was actually starting to enjoy himself, even with the crowded streets. Hell, it might have been because of them. Everything was saccharine with good-cheer and excitement, and the troll couldn’t help but feel light hearted as he and Dave walked arm-in-arm down the sidewalks of Canton.

“Alright, so here’s what I’m thinking,” Dave said. “An itinerary. The plan- the gameplay, the big Kahuna. First,” he said, his eyes just faintly glowing, “Clothes. Then food. I’m thinking lunch. Canton has some great food and you deserve a nice meal after trekking across the countryside with me for so long. We can do the temple stuff tonight, there’s no rush. How does that sound?”

The entire time Dave talked, his words got faster as he rushed to get them out. Karkat could even see the god blushing and he grinned wickedly.

“Dave,” the troll said, feinting shock. He looked down at their linked arms, and the god’s blush immediately deepened. Busted. “Is this a date?”

“I,” Dave stuttered, his pale eyelashes golden in the sunlight and long enough to brush against his high cheekbones when he looked down, his smile turning shy. “Maybe?”

“Oh my gods,” Karkat said, “This really is a date.” He wasn’t sure why, but the realization pulled his lips into a smile.

“Only if that’s okay with you,” Dave said quickly, the incriminating blush still painting his face scarlet. “Is it?”

“Always,” Karkat said, struggling to contain the purr that crept up his chest.

The look on Dave’s face was priceless. Karkat would do anything for that open smile to stay there forever. It was like the light shining through the clouds after a storm, and suddenly everything was bright and glittering again.

Karkat didn’t pay attention to the streets as they walked. The storefront was small and modest, and when they left it Karkat was dressed in gray and black. His boots were the only thing he kept, and his hair was freshly brushed and far too fluffy for his liking. He kept trying to flatten it with his palm without Dave noticing.

The god of Time was ecstatic. He pointed out monuments as they passed them, eagerly explaining the history behind the city. He jumped up on the railing of the bridge where it ran over the river and walked across it with his arms outstretched, perfectly balanced. They passed shrines and holy fountains, each one grander than the last. There wasn’t a single thing that escaped his keen eyes, and he soaked in the madness of the festival with a sideways grin.

Overhead loomed the Temple on the hill, always there in the back of the troll’s mind.

Lunch was excellent. They stopped at a small outdoor café and Dave was mobbed by the crumb-seeking crows that were never quite out of sight. 

“Get off,” the god complained, still laughing. “Crows are feathery assholes, Karkat. They’re nothing but feathery assholes and that’s all there is to it.”

Karkat flicked a crumb at him and laughed when they crows dove, shrieking in their rancorous voices and they flocked for Dave’s face full-speed.

“I thought they listened to you?” Karkat asked, his claws still picking apart a leftover crust to sneak to nearby birds.

Dave shrugged. “They do,” he said, “but I generally just let them do their own thing.”

“Why crows?” Karkat asked, curious. “Is there a reason?”

“There is,” Dave said. “But it’s a long and mostly pointless story. Long ago," he said, his face mischievous, "in another universe even, I accidentally killed one with a sword and crows have haunted me ever since.”

“What?”

“It’s true,” Dave deadpanned. “I’m actually part crow. Like, that’s not a joke or even an exaggeration.”

“What the hell?” Karkat said.

“The moral of this shitty story,” Dave said, raising one hand like he was making a pledge. “If there even is one, is never let Jade spy on you or she’ll chuck your mistakes directly into the nearest kernalsprite and forever doom you to be haunted by feathery assholes.”

Karkat didn’t need to understand the context to join Dave in his exasperation. “Jade?” he asked.

“Jade,” Dave confirmed.

“Wait a second,” Karkat said, something clicking onto place in his mind. “All of the gods have a sacred animal. Does that mean that I’ll get one too?”

Dave stopped irritating the crow nearest to him and looked up, something flashing through his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “And I even know what animal it is.”

“Will you tell me or…” Karkat trailed off, his interest sharpening.

Dave shrugged again, his face suddenly serious again. “Crabs,” he said. 

“Oh my god,” Karkat said, his voice growing into a near-shriek. “Am I part fucking crab?”

“What no,” Dave said, already laughing helplessly at Karkat’s look of horror. “You won’t magically become part crab. That’s- that’s just a me thing. It’s complicated. Okay wait, it’s a Jade thing too, and before you ask no that was not my fault.”

The reassurance didn’t matter. Karkat was already clutching at his belly with laughter. After a moment Dave joined him, the both of them laughing, surrounded by a mob of crows in Canton as the city’s festival continued full-swing.

“Was that a fucking joke?” Dave asked, his shoulders still shaking silently with mirth.

“Of course it was,” Karkat said, “I knew I wasn’t part crab. That would be stupid even by your standards, Dave.”

“You got me,” Dave said, “Fair and square.”

“But seriously,” Karkat asked, “Why crabs? Is there a reason?”

“There is,” Dave said, looking behind Karkat, his eyes up at what the troll knew was the Great Temple. “But maybe it’s time to stop by the temple. Things should make more sense after that.”

“Oh come on,” Karkat complained, “I’m fairly bright. I think can understand why if you tell me.”

“Oh really?” Dave asked. “Are you sure?”

‘Really,” Karkat said. “Go on. Test me. I can figure this out, I know I can.”

“Okay then,” Dave said, already grinning like he’d won. “It’s because your lusus was a giant crab-monster.”

Karkat opened his mouth, then slowly closed it, swallowing thickly. “Dammit,” he growled. “Okay. What the fuck is a lusus?”

For the first time since this ‘date’ had begun, Dave wasn’t smiling. He had that sad, far-away hollowness back to his eyes that Karkat had carefully kept at bay all afternoon. “Maybe it’s time for us to go and pay some people a visit,” Dave said. “There are a few things that you need to know before anything else happens.”

“Will it get my memories back?” Karkat asked, “Whatever it is in the temple that you’re after?”

Dave hesitated, and the second stretched between them for an awkward length. “I won’t lie,” he said, “You know I can’t do that, so yes and no.”

“Yes and no?” Karkat said, “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Let’s go,” Dave said. He threw the last of the crust to the eagerly waiting crows and stood. “You can see for yourself soon enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say I wanted more practice writing fluff so have a fluffy Davekat date before we dive into the action. 
> 
> I know its minimally plot-driven in this chapter, but after this the game is on


	13. A Change of Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello it's time for your weekly Davekat chapter update
> 
> Enjoy :)

Chapter 13

Canton’s Great Temple was truly a work of art. The building was circular as a wagon’s wheel and evenly divided into eleven sectors for all of the gods.

At least, that was what Karkat had heard tell from others. He’d never seen the inside of the temple for himself, but the gray stones drew his eye as they grew closer to the holy place.

The walk up the hill was easy and the paved path was wide and smooth. Individual shrines lined the walkway every twenty yards and the path was lightly populated with other temple attendees. Each shrine to the Rogue of Void was occupied by bell-ringers dressed in a blue so dark it was nearly black.

“Come one, come all,” a bell-ringer cried, the strings of bells that hung from his heavy horns jangling. “This is a day of celebration! Let your voices be heard and know that Void will hear your hidden truths as you speak them to the crowds! Hark, harken to the Rogue of Void! Ease the struggle of your secrets and know that Void will keep them safe!”

Karkat leaned closer to Dave as they moved past the shrine. “I still don’t get why this is known as a day for silence when all anyone does is make ungodly amounts of noise.”

“That’s kind of the point,” Dave said. “No one will hear anything you say with all of the excess sound down in the city, so any whispered secret is lost to all but the Rogue. It’s so loud that you speak with silence, just one voice lost among hundreds. All in all they’ve got this worked out pretty damn well.”

“Can she really hear any secret you want her to?” Karkat asked.

“Of course,” Dave said with a wink, “All you’ve got to do is ask her to listen.” 

The temple loomed overhead, its sharp spires thrust at the sky. The front double doors were open wide to accept any who wanted entrance, and two massive carved statues of both gods of Space stood guard over the doors. Karkat cranked back his head in awe at the statue of Kanaya as he dipped through the doorway. The statue was well over thirty feet tall, and in her stone hands she held a matriorb. Jade held a carved orb as well, but this one had mountains and seas etched into its face as she held the world itself between her cupped palms.

The inside of the great temple was somber in comparison to the loud antics outside, the air heavy with respect and power. The air shimmered with it. Overhead spanned the glass dome of the ceiling in every color of the rainbow and below it the floor was inlaid with the colors of the gods. 

The center of the temple was massive and it was one huge open space so large that the stained glass high above mimicked the sky. To the sides split off the separate wings for each of the godsigns and the towers that crowned each wing.

The godsign of Breath was directly underfoot, and next to it was the pink veneer of Heart.

Karkat expected them to enter the red sector for Time, but instead Dave kept a steady path through the cycle of colors until they were entered the wing of the gods of Hope.

“Where are we going?” Karkat asked, his voice hushed.

“I’m looking for one of the head priests,” Dave said, “There’s normally one or two poking around Hope’s sector. Watch your step,” Dave said, “There’s a lot of old magic here woven into the stones from generations of priests, and some of it will do strange things to those caught unaware.”

“Do they know that you’re here?” Karkat asked, his stomach dropping at the idea of wild magic worming it’s fingers into him.

“No,” Dave answered. “I’m shielding my presence from them. For all of the precautions they have in place to detect us, its surprisingly easy to just walk in the front door unnoticed.”

Two statues of the Prince and the Page stood side by side, still larger than life. The inside of the wing collapsed into a dozen different corridors and staircases, but Dave seemed to know his way around the tangled mess.

“Here,” Dave said, and suddenly the corridor ended in a small shrine of gold and white. Three black-robbed priests knelt inside, an open scroll between them.

“Yes?” one of them asked, looking up from the scroll, “can we assist you with anything, good sirs?”

“I’m looking for Haldoc,” Dave said, dipping his head in respect to the priests. The slight movement cast his face in just enough shadow to hide his eyes. “Do you know where I can find him?”

The troll squinted, his lined face set in a frown. “What business have you with the Father Superior?” 

“It’s a personal matter,” Dave said.

“Hmm,” the troll answered, looking at Karkat. “And I suppose you’ll be joining us as well?”

“Yeah,” Karkat said. “So where’s he at?”

“If you’ll follow me,” the troll said, rising to his feet with the creak of old joints. The other two priests returned to the scroll, muttering beneath their breath in a chanting cadence.

“The father Superior should be in his study at this hour,” the troll said, shuffling along. “I must say, this is quite the unusual request.” He glanced at the pair of them, his brown eyes deep. “Normally a direct audience with the church’s head is reserved only for emergencies within church affairs, but I don’t think that either of you are clergy, or am I mistaken?” The pointed question was accompanied by a knowing glance, and Karkat fought the urge to look away. 

Dave kept his face kind and understanding. “No, we’re not clergy, but I know him well.”

The troll nodded. “Most don’t know his name,” he said, grizzled eyebrows raised. “I hope your business with him goes well.”

“So do we,” Dave said, and they left the bright colors of the Hope sector behind as they neared the tower. Instead of going up into the spiraling lofts that housed the rest of the Prince and Page’s rooms, the priest took them through a small, bland door that lead to the underground section of the temple.

It was a well-lit passage, but the air was heavier down below the polished floors. The rooms they passed lacked the extravagance shown above, and the few glimpses inside the chambers that Karkat caught were of rows and rows of book and scrolls.

The brownblood came to a slow halt and cleared his throat, “Haldoc is just ahead,” he said, “I will leave you to it then, and may the gods bless you.”

“Thank you,” Karkat nodded to the priest. The other troll nodded back and turned to drift away. The black of his robes and the oppressive feeling of the earth above them reminded Karkat of the cave cultists, and he stepped closer to Dave to ease the crawling feeling that was spreading across his skin.

“Are you ready?” Dave asked, and Karkat swallowed.

“Let’s go,” he said. 

The door opened before Dave could knock, revealing a short, bald, red-faced, and jowly man dressed in gray. “Oh,” the man said, his eyebrows pleasantly raised in surprise, “I’m terribly sorry, I hadn’t realized that-” the man choked, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. “Time?” he asked, peering intently at the god. “Time, that’s you, isn’t it?”

Dave grinned. “Hey Haldoc,” he said, giving a light wave, “Long time no see.”

“Dear gods,” Haldoc whispered, clutching at his chest. His voice was low and rushed. “I had no word of your arrival, Knight, or I would have prepared a proper greeting.” He said, his hands wringing in the hem of his robes with a shaking excitement. “If you would forgive this grievous offence to your honor, I could have a reception started in just a few-”

Dave waved away the offer. “It’s alright,” he said, “I’m just stopping by to check on something. There’s no need to have anything prepared.”

“Oh,” the man said, disappointed. He squinted suspiciously at Karkat. “And who would this be?”

“I’m Karkat,” the troll said. 

“He’s a friend,” Dave said. “I have a favor to ask of you actually.”

“Anything,” Haldoc said, his gaze going back to the god of Time. “It would be an honor to serve you.” He dipped into a low bow, and Dave looked distinctly uncomfortable. “As head of the Temple affairs, it is my duty to provide and serve any god who chooses to bless the Temple with their presence.”

“You know the histories better than anyone else here,” Dave said. “Can you give Karkat a crash-course in everything from SBURB up until now for me? I’m going to check on something in the catacombs for a little while, and it would be a huge help for him to have such a good teacher.”

Haldoc looked like he was dying to ask questions, but he bowed again. “Of course,” he answered reverently. “Anything for you, god of sword and god of destruction. The sacred catacombs are always open to the gods.”

“Alright then,” Dave said. “I’ll be back soon Karkat,” the god said, and then he vanished between one second and the next. Karkat blinked, the after image stuck to his eyelids.

Haldoc swallowed thickly, before he drew in a deep breath. “Okay then,” he said, rallying himself. “A history lesson is what Time asked for, so a history lesson is what you’ll get!” He turned to Karkat, his gaze searching. “What do you know of the histories?” He asked. “Of SBURB?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word before,” Karkat admitted. He didn’t quite get why Dave thought this was necessary, but he trusted the god to know what was best when it came to the order in which things needed to happen. 

“Oh my,” the man said faintly, flustered. “We’ve certainly got our work cut out for us then. This way, if you please.”

Karkat followed the man up and out of the underground part of the temple back up into the main floor. They took a different way than before and the door opened up into the wing for the gods of Life. They made their way across over into the neighboring wings until they reached the red tiled floor of Time.

Dave’s statue did look surprisingly like him, though the stone version of his wore full plate armor and held a sword in each gauntleted hand. The heavy velvet cape was real and pooled across the floor behind him, as long as a stage curtain. Beside him stood the Maid, her eyes carved of rubies the size of eggs.

Haldoc lead him to the tower, up the spiraling stairway to a modest room. The space was cluttered with desks, but at least it was empty of other worshippers.

“Here,” Haldoc said, gifting Karkat with a heavy tome that he lifted from a bookshelf at the front of the room. “Feel free to browse through this compounded work of gospels pertaining to the gods of Time while I go find some better texts.” He frowned and wiped dust lovingly from the cover of the book. “I will return in a moment,” he said, and he left the room.

Karkat closed the door behind him and paced the floor. He was buzzing with restlessness and curiosity, and he opened the book to a random page near the middle and read- “And lo! The Knight of Time did appeareth unto him, saying, ‘that was some real unrighteous shit’.”

Karkat snorted and closed the book. This was beyond ridiculous. He turned back to the beginning, still curious, and read the most pan-rottingly numbing intro to the gods of Time. It was mostly about the beauty of entropy and how they should all succumb to the inevitable with glee. He scowled and turned the page. 

He flipped through the book, taking in the beautifully illuminated pictures that appeared in the tome. He ran his fingertips across the pages, noticing how accurate the spirals of the Maid’s horns were. With how painstakingly careful the illuminators had been with the details, Karkat noted that not once were Dave’s eyes shown as red. It had to be intentional.

He turned back to the door, his skin crawling. He felt a whisper of breath pass over him and he shivered. It felt like eyes were watching him even though he was alone.

He slowly went back to the book, but the hair at the back of his neck was raised. He slammed the book shut and looked up, his eyes narrowing. “I know you’re there,” he said. “Void? Is that you?”

The spike on energy pulsed, but there was no answer. Karkat could clearly feel the presence hovering over him, looming up above where the high ceiling gave way to stonework. It was starting to piss him off. Did they think that he wouldn’t notice? He wasn’t the ignorant wanderer he had been a sweep ago. He could recognize the weight of a god’s eyes on his skin.

“Fine then,” he challenged, shrugging. “Don’t say anything. It’s not like you can fool me. I know you’re there.”

“I thought that we could talk,” a voice said, and Karkat flailed thoughtlessly and wheeled around, his heart in his throat.

Karkat had seen the god two nights ago at the Point, but Heart’s unexpected appearance was still startling. 

The Prince’s eyes were orange and amber and gold and they flickered with energy, unsettlingly sharp and focused. The Prince stood solid, like he was a real person. The god lacked the opaqueness and transparency that the other unbound gods possessed, and he stood solid enough to cast a shadow that didn’t quite match up with the rest of him. When Karkat blinked, the shadow had multiplied into three separate shapes that all sprouted from there the god’s feet touched the wooden floor. 

Karkat swallowed thickly, his heart pounding. “What do you want?” He asked. “Does Dave know that you’re here?” 

Heart didn’t move, but Karkat still heard the words aloud. “No. I’m currently blocking him from sensing my presence.”

“And the father superior?” Karkat asked, shooting a slightly frayed glance at the closed door.

“He has been sufficiently distracted,” Heart said.

So they were alone, with no one on the way to interrupt. Karkat narrowed his eyes at the god, brushing off his instinctive fear. “Why are you here?”

Heart stepped closer and his booted feet made no noise. His face could have been carved from marble, and there was a jaggedness where his angles met the air that made the troll’s skin crawl. “I’m here to offer you some advice,” Heart said, his lips still unmoving, “and to protect my brother.”

“Protect him from what?” Karkat asked, concern for Dave rising up through his unease at the other god’s presence. 

“From you,” Heart said, and now his mouth moved with the words before flattening back into a hard line. “I don’t trust you,” he said. “And I don’t want Dave hurt again. I don’t think he could survive losing you a second time.”

A dozen arguments sprang to the troll’s mind, but he bit them all back to choose his words carefully. His heart ached at the reminder of the pain he had caused Dave, and that more than anything is what made his next words a promise. “I would never hurt him,” Karkat swore. “Not for anything.”

“I know that you believe that,” Heart acknowledged, his eyes flashing an electric pink before fading back to burning umber. “But here’s the problem. I don’t think that you’re the real Karkat.”

“What?” Karkat asked. “That’s ridiculous. Who else would I be? Rose and Terezi both said that I was me.”

Heart’s eyes were unblinking. “I’m not saying that a part of you isn’t the friend we lost,” he said. “I’m saying that the Karkat that Rose and Terezi both Saw could have been nothing but a fragment of the troll we knew before, a fragment bound and buried inside the person that stands before me.”

Heart took another step closer, and that single step carried him closer to Karkat than what should have been possible. The troll took a step back, his knees weak.

“I can see your heart, you know,” the Prince said, “I can see how frayed it is. What you are is barely holding on.”

“Fuck you,” Karkat snarled, his claws digging into his palms. “So what if you’re right in some way? I don’t know what happened to me and I might not ever find that out. What if I am just a fragment of who I fucking was? Isn’t that better than Dave having nothing again?” He swallowed past the painful lump building in his throat. “I still love him.”

“I know you do,” Heart said, still damningly calm. “He loves you too.”

“Then what is the fucking problem?” Karkat asked, his hands shaking.

Heart’s face broke into separate expressions, each one flickering rapidly across his features like a nightmare of torment before settling on blankness again. There was absolutely nothing human about him as Heart leaned down, his eyes burning.

Karkat backed away until his back hit the wall, and the god was still looming over him. He was taller than Dave and those two inches seemed like a hundred. “The problem is that I know how much damage nothing but a splinter of a person can cause,” Heart whispered, “I know that right now, Dave is talking himself out of the only sane solution available. I know that you’ve fooled Dave into believing that you’re the real Karkat. I know that you look like Karkat, you talk like Karkat. Hell, you even fucking bleed like him, but that Karkat, the one we knew, the one that Dave loved, he’s gone. He died, and he’s not coming back.”

“Fuck you,” Karkat repeated, clinging to the only response that he had. His heartbeat was pounding in his throat. He could feel it in his ears as he choked on his fear. He hadn’t even been this afraid when the cultist drug the knife across his wrist, the metal gleaming as he realized they were actually going to do it. They were going to kill him and his own blood was slippery under his fingers and the stone he was tied to was screaming it’s fury into his flesh and it all paled below the wave of fear crashing over him right now as the Prince of Heart silently looked at him. 

“Why?” Karkat choked out, nearly panting. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I love my brother,” Heart said. “And loving you was the worst thing that ever happened to him.”

The tears came, hot and thick. They rolled down Karkat’s face, but he was angry now and his rage was growing stronger than his fear. “I don’t believe that,” he challenged, still gasping.

“You weren’t there,” Heart said, still completely expressionless. “You didn’t have to watch Dave break. He went silent, goddammit. It was a decade before we could get a word out of him, and it took centuries to pick up the shattered pieces that were left. I can’t let Dave go through that again- I can’t. He won’t make it a second time.” For the first time, there was a sliver of feeling in the god’s voice, deep and broad enough to drown in. 

“I’m not going to leave him,” Karkat said. 

“I know,” Heart said. “That’s the problem. Tell me this then, Karkat- if you were an enemy, how would you go about beating us?”

“What?” Karkat asked, the sudden shift throwing him off. He wiped tears off his face and held back a snarl. 

“How would you go about beating a full team of gods with powers and abilities beyond your comprehension?” Heart asked, his voice whisper soft. “Would you send them a weapon, one dressed and groomed to look like the one person we would trust absolutely? Would you hide just enough of a splinter of Karkat inside it to fool the Seers? Tell me, would you target the strongest and most dangerous god, the only one vulnerable and so desperate enough to believe this beautiful lie that he’d willingly share everything just for a chance to reclaim even a hint of the friend he lost?”

“Oh my gods,” Karkat said, laughing helplessly, still crying. “You’re fucking insane.”

“I don’t think I am,” the Prince said. “I can feel your splintered soul. I can feel where its edges don’t line up.”

“I’m not some fucking weapon,” Karkat spat out, snarling. “I would know it if I was. I don’t want to hurt any of you, and I would willingly die before I’d let anything happen to Dave.”

Heart smiled. It was a slow, cold smile, from a face too sharp to be real. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” he said, like Karkat had just confirmed everything. “You don’t need to know that you’re a weapon to act as one. All you need to do to win, to destroy Dave completely- is to die.”

Heart leaned back swiftly, and Karkat gasped in air as magic sparked and popped. 

The Prince stood back to his full height, shoulders squared. “Karkat,” he said, “you are a weapon even if you don’t realize it.”

“Why don’t you just fucking kill me now then?” Karkat challenged, baring his teeth. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“No,” Heart answered. “I don’t want to do that to Dave, and I’m not working for His side.”

Karkat caught the hint immediately. “Who?” He asked, his mind reeling. “Who is it that would attack you?”

“There’s still so much that you don’t know,” Heart said. “That’s another thing that I don’t trust, that-” Heart frowned, cutting himself off as his shadow twitched. “Shit,” he said, extremely articulate and unbothered, right before the air at his side ripped itself open.

The rip sucked at the room, dragging at it. The pages of the open books fluttered wildly, snapping as something dark, a hand with tendrils and teeth of gleaming shadow reached out of the rend in the room and seized Heart around his waist before snatching the god back and through the rip. The tear collapsed on itself with a dull roar, the godsign of Void burning so bright in its wake that it seared itself onto the backs of Karkat’s optic nerves with white fire.

The books fell still. The ringing gave way to a deafening silence as Karkat staggered to the nearest desk, grasping it to stay upright. His claws dug into the wood as he blinked away the afterimage, shaking. He felt sick to his core, nauseous like he had never been before. He could taste bile in his throat past the salt of the tears that he hastily wiped away with his sleeve. 

The door opened with a creaking groan, and Karkat whipped around, his senses dull, as he saw Haldoc back into the room with so many books and scrolls in his arms that the carefully balanced tower hid his face.

The troll took the few seconds before the Father Superior set down the scrolls with a heave, wiping the sweat from his palms, to slam every single emotion down into a hole.

If Terezi was right, if there was some gaping hole in his thinkpan, then he would shove all of these cluttered broken feelings and uncertainties down into it and seal it up again. Damn it, he wanted Dave beside him, the god’s long fingered-hand in his, but Heart’s words wouldn’t stop echoing in the confines of his skull and he felt like he was going to throw up. 

“Okay,” Haldoc said, turning back around, his eyes twinkling and oblivious to what just happened. He took out a book and opened it. “Let’s start at the beginning…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry but I'm also not sorry.
> 
> I did warn you that Plot was coming.
> 
> Poor Dirk... Roxy just straight snatched him. Omg


	14. Of Blood and Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys for the late update. There are these pesky things called midterms, and they get in the way of my writing time, can you believe the audacity of that? Bah!
> 
> Anyway, have the next very long chapter as an apology.

“What,” Haldoc asked, his hands deftly pulling a single book from the leaning tower without the rest tumbling down, “is the meaning of the gods?”

“What kind of question is that?” Karkat asked, still short of breath from shock as he attempted to hide the evidence of Heart’s ‘visit’. He had stopped crying, but he was sure that his eyes were puffy and red-tinted. Fuck. 

Haldoc, not as blissfully absorbed in the books as Karkat had hoped, made a show of organizing and restacking them into a better order as the troll wiped at his eyes. 

“I mean,” Haldoc asked, his eyes still askance, “Why do the gods act as they do?”

“Can you not be so vague?” Karkat asked, his heart just starting to slow down. He knew he was being rude, but he couldn’t help it. He still had to check the shadows to make sure nothing watched from them.  
Haldoc shrugged and opened the first book. It was old, the ink so worn that Karkat wasn’t sure how the man read it. “The gods are old,” he said. “It’s common knowledge that they built this world and created life as we know it. They gave us the stars, the moon, the sun and the grass. They make the rains fall and the seasons change. With their help, this city rose from the dust. So, with all of that which they can accomplish, why do they concern their most holy selves with us mortals? Or why don’t they, if that be the case?”

“I guess it depends,” Karkat said. “It depends of a lot of things.”

“Like?” Haldoc asked. “The gods have the power to change so many things, but most of the time they don’t. Sometimes years can pass without a whisper from them. Sometimes our prayers fall flat and we suffer for it. Why?”

Karkat knew this one. He’d had it outlined not too long ago from Light herself. “Free will,” he said. “We have free will.”

“Do we?” Haldoc asked, chuckling. “Is it really free will if our every action is controlled by the gods, even if we don’t realize it?”

“How is this a history lesson?” Karkat snapped, his temper flaring with his frayed nerves. 

The father superior laughed. “I guess this is unfair,” he said, “asking questions we priests and theologicians have been asking ourselves for centuries.” The man winked at Karkat and held out the book. “Sometimes I don’t think those questions will ever get solved, but yet at night I can’t sleep with how they’re turning around and around in my head.”

Karkat glanced at the thin, spidery text. Some of the words were strange, but he caught the letters SBURB, underlined twice for emphasis. “What about this?” he asked, pointing at the word. “You mentioned it before, but I’m unfamiliar with it.”

Haldoc raised his eyebrows. “You get right to the point, I see,” he said. “SBURB is the story of genesis, the beginning before our own beginning. SBURB existed before this world did, and as the histories say, it even existed before the gods.” He paused to let the effect settle in, but Karkat was unimpressed. He had enough scraps of memories to know that the game came first—wait. 

“Was SBURB a game?” Karkat asked, the pieces snapping together.

Haldoc gave him a very serious look. “To call SBURB a game is bordering on blasphemy,” he said. “SBURB was the building block of existence itself. SBURB was an epic battle between forces so beyond mortal comprehension that our histories only reference it as ‘genesis’. It was the beginning and the end- the first and the last. From it all that we know was forged in the dark seas of more magic and chaos that a hundred worlds can dare to hold- calling such a battle between the forces of light and darkness merely a game- bah!”

Karkat fought back a smile. SBURB was totally the game that Dave talked about. He was learning.

“So what comes next?” Karkat asked curiously. 

“Trying to instill in you 4,600 years of history in a half hour is pointless and approaches foolishness,” Haldoc said. “There were times of war, times of peace, times of famine, of sickness, of death. There were times of plenty, times of soft rains and good harvests. Everything moves in a great never-ending cycle, and over it all is the gods. They are in control of what is and what will be.”

“But don’t you ever have questions?” Karkat asked the head priest. “Don’t you wish that there was a way to know more? To actually get the fuc- final answers that you want?” He stuttered midway through the sentence to reign in his urge to curse. Not in front of the father, even he had more respect than that. 

Haldoc smiled a patient smile, like one would give a small child who asked why fire was hot. “It is not our job to know or to understand the gods’ intentions,” he said. “That’s why its called faith.”

This lesson was rapidly turning into yet more unhelpful bullshit. “But if you could- wouldn’t you?” Karkat asked, not willing to stop poking at things he shouldn’t. 

“I asked for many things like that what you inquire about, once,” Haldoc admitted, his fingers reaching for a thin cord strung around his jowly neck. The plain band was nearly swallowed by the collar of his robe, but Karkat caught the familiar glint of a gold coin with a deep scratch across its face. “There are always stories about clergy who presumed to demand answers of the gods. I have contented myself with the scarce miracles that the gods have deemed fit to grant me, and I thank them for that.”

The man’s voice shook slightly, and Karkat could smell bullshit from a mile away. “Oh really, sure,” Karkat said, scathingly sarcastic. “A mutant troll shows up at your front door with the Knight of Time at his side, and you’re not even a little curious?”

Father Haldoc swallowed, the knob in his throat jumping with the movement. “The Knight has always been the most elusive of the gods. In all of our centuries of study we’ve never managed to pin any patterns to him. He takes no champions, no priests. Time appears only when he sees fit to and the histories are filled with, if you will forgive my base terms, a plethora of what seem to be nothing but his distracting antics.”

“You’ve met the Knight before,” Karkat said, stating the fact for what it was. “I can see the genesis coin around your neck, plus you recognize him by sight when none of the illuminations of him include his eye color. What is he like?” the troll asked. Histories be damned- this was what he wanted to know.

“Time?” Haldoc asked, musing. “Yes, I’ve met him and other gods before, as is fitting for my role in the church. I’ve never directly interacted with him before now though. He sticks to himself.”

“What can you tell me about him?” Karkat asked. The books lay forgotten on the desk, untouched as the human thought carefully about his answer.

“Time is a conflicted character,” Haldoc said slowly. “He hides himself away throughout the history books and records, only appearing when he is most needed. As such, Time is regarded as an ill omen by most. To me, personally, and I only tell you this because somehow you’re the one troll in history that’s so far managed to capture his attention, Time always seemed to be running from something.” Karkat swallowed thickly, his heart in his throat as the man continued. “The times where the Knight interferes- it’s all a play to him, even when the consequences are most dire and serious for us mortals. He’s aloof, he’s distracted, to put it simply he’s dangerous, but not in a way that makes me worry.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that he’s been injured,” Haldoc said, his words slow and measured. “The church has always wondered at what happened to him, in SBURB. Our theories are endless, each one more ridiculous than the last.”

“So what is it you believe?” Karkat asked, feeling sick to his stomach.

“I believe that Time is hurting,” Haldoc said. “He always has been, and he throws himself so completely into these projects that he finds, people like you, like any other mortal or odd situation that ever took a god’s fancy, as distractions against whatever old wound he’s still scarred from, but then they’re over with and he’s gone again, sometimes for decades.”

It kept hitting him, these not-so-subtle reminders that Dave had suffered, and had suffered for a long time. Karkat thought that knowing would make things easier, but with every word his breath drew his chest tighter. The hole in his mind ached and burned with its emptiness like a hungry thing. Was he just another distraction? An aberrant mutant, good for wasting a few weeks but beyond that nothing more than one of a hundred other ‘distractions’?

No. No, he didn’t believe that. 

“So then,” Haldoc said, his eyes keen. “Since you’re so full of questions, I think it’s my turn to ask a few.”

Karkat held back a grimace, but his face had always been far too expressive for his tastes and he knew the man caught the expression. 

“How in the bleeding hells did you end up traveling with the bound god of Time?” Haldoc asked, his voice serious and his eyes hungry. He leaned closer, his tone dropping into a whisper. “You clearly know things beyond what even the most studied theologician would know due to your proximity to the Knight of Time. How?”

Karkat told the first part of the truth, just to avoid lying while sounding true enough to satisfy the man. “Some hemocaste cultists kidnapped me and were going to cut out my heart and offer it to Time in exchange for his help with their genocide plan.”

Haldoc, to his credit, didn’t blink. Instead he thoughtfully scratched at his chin, his fingers still smoothening over the gold at his neck. “I suppose that Time stopped them, considering that you still have your heart?”

“He did,” Karkat said. 

“That part makes sense,” Haldoc admitted. “Time always shows up to protect those in need of him. What I wonder about is what made him stay? Why did he bring you here today?”

Now came the hard part. Karkat couldn’t reveal too much. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he answered. “I don’t even know what it is he’s doing here, but apparently it was important enough to drag me along.”

“How long has Time been with you?” Haldoc asked. Something in his face was troubled, and warning bells began to go off in Karkat’s head. 

“Just at two weeks,” the troll said.

“And he’s been freely answering any questions you might have?” The man said, slightly incredulous. 

Karkat snorted, shaking his head. “Not freely,” he said. “Getting a straight answer out of him is worse than herding catbeasts. He rambles, he distracts himself. He’ll talk about a million useless things first, but when he’s being serious I know that he means it. I don’t believe than he’s lied.”

“If I hadn’t seen him for myself just then,” Haldoc said, “I wouldn’t have believed it. The Knight himself! Here! And at his side he brings a mutant-blooded troll who tells stories of hemocaste cultists.” The man chuckled to himself, his hands deftly plucking another book from the pile. “It’s just like one of the old stories. Gods and mortals walking together again- and all the world trembles before them.”

“I don’t think he’s planning anything world-shaking,” Karkat said, even as he wondered the same thing. “He’s kept himself well hidden so far. No one else knows he’s here.” The troll kept silent about the other gods. He didn’t feel the need to go into that particular clusterfuck of confusion.

“So, back to the lesson then,” Haldoc said, and he opened the thick tome in his hands to reveal even more thin, hard to make out script. “Can you read this for me?” He tilted the book out to Karkat, who squinted at the small, cramped words.

The book made absolutely no sense. Words were scrawled in nonsensical lines, letters upside down, words scrawled on top on one another in a confusion tangle. He blinked before scrubbing at his eyes, but the book remained stubbornly illegible. “Is this some sort of code?” Karkat asked, curious. 

“Not exactly,” The father superior admitted. “Watch this.”

The man spun the book back around to him, and he pulled out the genesis coin that Karkat had known was hiding on the cord around his neck. The gold glinted in the sunlight that poured in from the window, and the word stamped into its face had been worn down from years of prayer. Haldoc touched the coin to the book’s spine, just a light tap, and the words shifted. They crawled across the page like ants as the knotted text untangled and reoriented itself into neat paragraphs. 

"You're not impressed," Haldoc noted with amusement. "I guess that traveling with a god desensitizes one to smaller parlor tricks like that. This is one of the first Compendiums,” Haldoc said reverently. “It contains a script of what occurred directly after the gods created out world, and its record ends with the founding of this city and the construction of this sacred temple. As one of the church’s most valuable texts, it’s of course protected from most prying eyes.”

Karkat leaned closer, his claws gripping the desk as he silently read.

‘In the beginning, the Maid of Time and the Witch of Space stepped into creation and existence followed after them. They brought the structure and order that became the base on which all of the universe wove itself onto. Next followed the Seers of Light and Mind, and with them followed light and magic and thought and action and all the things in their place. And then came the Maid of Life and the Page of Hope, and with them followed faith and growth and freedom and belief and all the things in their place. Next came the Rogue of Void and the Heir of Breath, and with them followed independence and shadow and air and silence and all of the things in their place.”

And so on the list went, until, there at the end when every other god had been named…

“And last came forth the Knight of Time, and only he entered into creation alone and with him followed destruction and entropy and time and all the things in their place. And the gods were together in the firmament of creation and saw that there was an emptiness to it, and so they sought to fill it with things they named as good. And thus was the world created.”

There was a tightness in his throat as he set the book down. “Father Haldoc,” he said. “What do you know about the Lost God?”

The man blinked at him, and his shoulders straightened. “You, Karkat,” he said, “Are full of the most radical ideas aren’t you?” he sighed, his shoulders drooping again. “Yes, the Lost God did exist, once, but not in this world. They were lost in SBURB, and we know nothing about them other than the fact that they once lived in a different place.”

“That’s bullshit though, isn’t it?” Karkat challenged. “If you know they existed once, why doesn’t everyone else?”

“It’s a secret only the highest levels of the church are aware of,” Haldoc defended himself. “In any case, as far as we are concerned, the Lost God is no longer relevant.”

That hurt a bit, but not enough to stop him as Karkat continued. “Did you ever wonder about what must have happened to them?” It was strange, considering how much the man seemed to want to know more, that this topic was so routinely brushed-off. 

“Of course,” the man said, like it should have been obvious. “It’s one of the greatest mysteries, but it’s not something that’s ever going to get solved. Anyone who was ever brave enough to ask the gods about it lost their identity. The danger was too great to risk considering that the answers wouldn’t be of much use.”

“So you’re saying that the existence of an unknown god isn’t a problem?” Karkat asked, his voice raising. 

“But they don’t exist,” Haldoc said, reacting slowly to the troll’s interrogation. “So there is no problem.”

Karkat’s head was spinning. The Prince of Heart’s words wouldn’t stop echoing through his head and he could feel his pulse pounding in his ears. 

That was the core of it. He existed, so he was a problem. Everything else was just complicating the issue.

His claws were gripping the desk too tight, and he knew he’d leave behind lines when he managed to loosen his fingers. His eyes were stinging with the promise of more tears, and his breath was coming too fast and shallow.

Haldoc frowned, not understanding why Karkat was struggling to breath. “Are you alright?”

Karkat tried to gasp out an answer, but the full weight of everything that had happened to him had slammed over his head until he felt like he was drowning in his own skin. 

That was when the door opened and Dave stepped into the room, his clothes covered in dust with cobwebs spun like silk in his pale hair, and his red eyes were molten fire in a face that could have been carved from marble. “Karkat,” he said, standing at the open door. “Are you alright?”

Karkat swallowed, his heart pounding in his throat. The god of Time was still, his body motionless in a way that couldn’t be good and it took all that the troll had not to bolt to him and bury his shaking hands in the folds of Dave’s shirt. It must have showed in his face, because Dave’s gaze flickered to where the head of the church watched with waiting eyes, the man carefully cataloguing everything about the god of Time.

“I’m fine,” Karkat said, and it wasn’t even a lie. Okay, it was, but not as big of a lie as it might have been.

Dave frowned, and his eyes were still burning too bright to look normal in his human face. “Are you sure?” He asked, and Karkat swallowed again. Dave’s eyes traced patterns through the air like he was reading something in the still room that only he could see. “Karkat,” he asked slowly, “Has anyone else been in here to see you?”

Busted. Fuck, somehow, Dave knew about his siblings.

“Yeah,” Karkat said, and Haldoc blinked in shock, shaking his head.

“Impossible,” the man said. “No one besides us even know he’s here.”

Dave’s mouth thinned into a flat line. “How did the lesson go?”

Haldoc shrugged, his hands waving. “As well as it might have been, with the time I was allowed.”

“That’s alright, we’ll be going now,” Dave said. “Thank you for indulging my request.”

Haldoc bowed stiffly, his hands shaking. “Is there anything else that I could be of service for, your grace?” He asked. “Anything at all?”

“No,” Dave said. “And tell no one we were here.”

Haldoc swore to it, one hand in a fist over his heart. “On my honor,” he said.

“Oh wait,” Dave said, sighing. “There is one thing.”

Haldoc brightened instantly at the hope of helping. “Anything.”

“How quickly do you think this temple and all of the surrounding neighborhoods could be completely evacuated?” Dave asked, and father Haldoc’s eyebrows rose so high that they disappeared in his hairline.

“Evacuate?” the man asked, his voice wheezy. “The Great Temple? And Canton? For what reason?”

“Sorry,” Dave said his face completely expressionless. “Can’t tell that part.”

Something in Karkat’s stomach began to squirm uncomfortably. “Evacuate?” He asked, just as confused as the clergyman. 

“It won’t be for another while yet,” the god of Time reassured them, “But it will need to be done. I’ll leave it to you, Haldoc, to have the plans in order for when it needs to be done in a few weeks.”

“Is there something wrong?” Haldoc asked, “Something in the temple underground?”

“Something like that,” Dave admitted, ever aloof. “It’ll be best for the city’s safety that no one be around when it gets fixed.”

Haldoc bowed deeper. “I’ll make sure all of the arrangements are made and executed timely,” he swore, “Thank you for alerting me to this potential danger. I’ll make sure your orders are swiftly carried out.”

“Thanks,” Dave said, “I guess I’ll see you then.”

They left the room and the stunned man inside it alone with his piles of books. Karkat followed Dave into the stairwell, where the god turned downward.

The troll had too many questions that all of them would take hours to ask. Instead, he chose the surest way to express his confusion. 

“Dave,” Karkat said. “What the fuck?”

Dave ground his hands into his eyes and Karkat caught the smell of smoke clinging to him. “What did Dirk say to you?” he asked.

“You know?” Karkat asked, unsurprised as he stuck the name to the Prince’s face in his mind. Dirk. 

“The bastard must have hid himself from me,” Dave said, and all in all he didn’t seem too upset. “Did he give you the whole brotherly talk about how don’t break my heart or he’ll shatter your soul or some shit?” The idea seemed to amuse him, and Dave grinned in the half-light of the shadowed stairwell.

“Not exactly,” Karkat said, and Dave’s amusement melted away at the tone of his voice.

“Karkat?”

“Dave?” He asked. “Why the fuck am I here?”

Dave went still again, stopping mid-step like gravity didn’t work on him. “What did Dirk say?” The god’s voice was careful and evenly measured, mask-like. 

“Am I a weapon?” Karkat demanded, his voice hissing as his claws dug into his palms. “Dave, you know just as well as I do that none of this makes sense. Dirk said… he said that he believes that I’m only here to hurt you.”

Dave said nothing as Karkat fished the genesis coin out of his pocket and held it up so that the dull gold glinted in the faint light. The stairwell might not have been the best place to have this conversation, but dammit he was done with waiting. 

“Dave,” Karkat asked, nearly pleading, the coin cold between his fingertips. “What does this fucking mean?”

The god said nothing. He could have been a statue from how still he was, his shoulders turned away and his face in shadow. 

Karkat continued. “Dave, you know that this didn’t break on its own, and we both know that I sure as fuck didn’t do it. So who the fuck did? Someone made sure that I remembered us- they gave me that memory for a reason. Why?”

The god still didn’t move, didn’t speak. He gave no indication that he’d heard the troll’s words.

“Dave,” Karkat pleaded, his voice shaking. “Please. I don’t understand what’s going on and I don’t want to hurt you.” He reached out and put his hand on Dave’s shoulder, and the god’s face slowly turned to face him.

A single crystalline tear dripped down from white eyelashes. It ran across Dave’s cheek, set in its lonely path to his chin, and the god blinked.

“Dave?” Karkat asked, nearly crying again.

The god reached out and cupped the troll’s face in his hands. They looked at each other, silently, both with tears in their eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Dave said, his hands holding onto Karkat like he was made of glass. 

“Someone did this to me,” Karkat said. “Someone wanted me to remember you Dave, and what if Dirk’s right? What if I’m just a tool to hurt you?”

“So what if you are?” Dave said, his voice harsh as his thumbs cradled the troll’s jaw, the movement of his breath sending light puffs of air across Karkat’s face from how close they were. “So what if Caliborn tallied up the last of his strength to send you here? Why the fuck would that change anything? Karkat- I don’t fucking care.”

Karkat clasped Dave’s hand to his face, desperate to battle the emptiness around him and the screaming silence of his fractured memories and he wasn’t worthy. He wasn’t worthy of the trust and the vulnerability Dave gave so freely.

Dave continued, his voice certain. “I don’t care, because Dirk is probably right because that’s the single thing in this clusterfuck that even approaches making sense and it’s exactly what that bastard Caliborn would do if he still existed just to fuck us all over from beyond the fucking grave and I know that, Jegus I’ve known that from the first time I saw you. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“If you know that I’m only here to hurt you, why did you stay with me?” Karkat asked, his voice heartbreaking. “Why? I might not even be fucking me. What if I’m just a copy or splinter of who you knew?”

Dave didn’t move, even though Karkat was squeezing his hand hard enough that it would have hurt a normal person. “I could never leave you,” he said. “Never. Caliborn miscalculated. Even if he did send you here just to taunt me as a splinter of yourself, he fucked up because I have a way to fix you. I can stop you from ever being turned against us and restore you to yourself.”

“You can?”

“What did you think I meant by training?” Dave asked, and now he was faintly smiling as Karkat brushed away the tear that still clung stubbornly to his jawline before letting his hand rest against Dave’s face.  
“Everywhere we’ve been, everything we’ve done,” Dave said, “Has been to make you who you’re meant to be.”

“You keep saying that,” Karkat said. “How can you be so sure that your plan will work?”

Dave swallowed and the sound carried across the scarce space between them. “Follow me,” he said. “There’s something that you need to see.”

They travelled down, out of the tower for Time and back across the main temple grounds where Dave led him through a small hidden door and through the maze of the underground catacombs. He stopped at a plain wooden door, it’s face marred with age.

Dave put his hand against the lock and cleared his throat. “I request entry into what lies beyond,” the god said, “on my authority as the Knight of Time.”

There was a rusty creak, a flash of old magic, and the door groaned open on its ancient hinges.

“Don’t touch anything,” Dave said, and Karkat pressed close to his side as the god lifted a torch from a bracket on the wall and lit it with his bare fingers. The passageway was dark stone, rough and uncut- a cave’s yawning maw that twisted down into dark shadows.

“Dave,” Karkat asked, stepping carefully over rocks as he followed the god’s footsteps. “Where are we going?” The cave was identical in feel to Time’s hidden chamber, and it was clear that no one had been down here in a long time- centuries even. The cobwebs that spanned the narrow passage crumpled to dust when he touched them. 

“I’m going to show you something,” Dave said. “You’re going to have to trust me.”

“I do,” Karkat promised, and there was an old metal door that was wielded across the cave before them, slowly looming out of the dark when the firelight fell across it.

The pitted metal was corrupted with age, but Dave brushed his palm across it and the rust fell away as the clock wound itself backwards until the door was shining and young again. The smooth steel was simple, and there were thin words etched across it’s front in a strange, angular language.

Karkat squinted at the words. “”What does it say?” he asked. “I can’t read it.”

“It’s in Alternian,” Dave answered. “The Mayor wrote it before he began his construction of the temple above us. What lies beyond this door is the reason Canton was build where it is.” Dave traced the words with his fingers and they shone with red light as he spoke. “It says, ‘every exile will eventually find their way home’.” Dave’s voice was choked, his hand in a fist as he leaned against the door. “Son of a bitch- WV must have known. That sly motherfucker.”

“Know what?” Karkat asked, his heart hammering against his ribs.

“That you would be back,” Dave answered. “I don’t know how, but I don’t doubt it now. He always knew exactly what would happen.” He laughed, short and true. “Holy fuck.”

Dave set his hand on the handle, and froze. “Karkat,” he said. “A huge part of me never wanted to show this to you, and I came down here earlier today thinking that I could go through with it, but then I got here and I looked at it and thought of you and I just couldn’t. I still can’t,” he admitted. “Please. I would never hurt you, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

Karkat recalled Dirk saying that Dave was talking himself out of whatever solution that he knew must be on the other side of this door. He wasn’t sure when he put all of the pieces together, assembled all of the little bits of information that he had into this half-known idea, but he had a feeling that he knew exactly what was waiting for him beyond the door. He grasped Dave’s hand in his. “I trust you,” he said.

Dave opened the door, and torchlight fell across a faded red-tile floor. The chamber was dark until Dave lit the braziers with his torch and his hands so that fire flickered to life and illuminated the sanctum and the burgundy floor.

The far wall held a dull and dusty insignia, a horizontal slash bleeding red. Below it lay a rectangular stone dais, the four pillars at its edges identical to the on that had been in the Knight of Time’s chamber.  
“This,” Dave said as Karkat’s skin crawled as the stale air of the chamber pressed in on him. “Is the quest bed of the Knight of Blood. It, and this chamber, is yours Karkat.”

The troll gazed into the hostile shadows and pressed closer to Dave’s side. He could feel the bed watching him and his blood burned with the memory of the twisting magic buried under his skin from touching Dave’s quest bed. 

The god of time continued. “This is the only proof of your existence in this entire universe. From this chamber sprang the rumors of the Lost god’s existence, because the temple above us knows about it and always has.”

“I saw your quest bed, Dave,” Karkat said. “It was in the cave.”

“It was,” Dave acknowledged. “We all have them, scattered and hidden all over the world.” He made to step forward, to close a bit of the distance between him and the troll, but he stopped like his legs couldn’t move. “Karkat?”

Karkat stepped into the room, and the air was heavy around him, ignoring Dave’s wordless plea for him to return. He couldn’t stop staring at the dull stone slab- it drew his eye with a horrible wet gleam. Behind it rose the Godsign of Blood, all of the proof that he ever needed to see to know in his heart that this was all real.

“How does it work?” he asked, turning to face the god.

Dave laughed nervously, his hand tangling in the back of his hair. “It’s quite simple,” he said. “There’s only two steps.” He held up two fingers, and Karkat could see the tremor in them. “Step One,” Dave said. “You get on the bed.”

Karkat glanced back at the slab, his skin crawling. It wasn’t a pleasant notion. He could remember the twisting under his skin from his contact with Dave’s bed and his stomach rolled with nausea.

“Step two,” Dave continued, his voice rushed and airy with breathlessness. There was something shaking in his tone, and Karkat stilled as the god forced himself to continue. “You die.”

The realization grew slowly, and when it finished maturing it was sour and bitter. Karkat didn’t know why, but that sounded familiar. “I die?” He asked, unsurprised. The fact didn’t really bother him. Why didn’t it bother him? He stepped closer to the quest bed, and Dave sputtered, words pouring from him as his feet strained to run.

“You get to come back after,” Dave answered, his eyes like drops of blood. “And you’ll be a god then, safe from Caliborn and everything else. You’ll get to be you again, Karkat.”

The troll swallowed thickly past the lump in his throat. His chest was too tight and it ached to draw his next breath of stale cave air. “Did you die, in the game, to be a god?”

“I did,” Dave said. “I’ve died a lot. It isn’t that bad.” His voice caught in a choked gasp. “Karkat please-”

Karkat broke and drew away from the bed like it was a nest of snakes and the shadows followed his feet. He backed away, stumbling, until he was back in the safety of the firelight. Dave caught him and held him tightly, and Karkat could feel how the god’s heart was pounding. “Gods…” he trailed off, clutching at Dave with wordless fear and disbelief. 

“Karkat please, let me take you away from here,” Dave asked, hugging him to his chest as if to shield him from the darkness of the cavern. “I can’t. I thought I could think about this longer, and talk with you about it but I just can’t. I look at you and I think of that fucking bed and everything feels like its frozen again and I can’t escape. I don’t want you to be dead again- even if it’s just for a few seconds. That’s eternities too long for me to bear.”

“Shhhh,” Karkat said, resolutely not considering the small part of him that was begging to walk over to the bed, to lay down and end this right here and now, but he couldn’t, not with Dave pleading for them to leave. “It’s okay,” he said. “Dave, it’s okay. We can go.”

“It won’t be okay,” Dave said brokenly. “No matter what, you’ll end back up down here sooner or later and I don’t think I can take that.”

“It’s okay,” Karkat repeated firmly, tugging Dave behind him as he marched to the door. “Fuck this.” There was nothing that was worth the expression that clouded Dave’s face, that trapped, helpless look of someone vulnerable and bruised. He slammed the door behind him, and it closed with a clang that shook loose dust from the ceiling. It settled in a fine rain over the two of them, gritty.

“I don’t care,” Karkat growled. “Beginnings, endings, they’re all the same when it’s about gods isn’t it? When did magic ever make things easier?”

“Please, I know, just not today,” Dave said. “And not tomorrow either. It’s still too soon for me.”

“I won’t ask,” Karkat promised. “We can take our time. There’s no rush.”

Dave laughed still too panicky for Karkat’s taste, but not so breathless as before. “No rush, yeah, I’ve got all the time we fuckin need. Like, shit, years even.”

“We don’t have to decide anything right now,” Karkat said, his head clearer than it had been in weeks now that he was out of the narrow cave and the squeeze of hostile magic had left him. “Let’s focus on the cultists for now,” Karkat said. “Listen Dave, okay? The cultists. We have to fix the world first, then we can worry about us. Priorities. There’s still things we need to do first.”

“Okay, I can do that,” Dave said, worrying his bottom lip between his dull human teeth, a furrow between his eyes. “God. I thought I would be able to handle this better, but-”

Karkat silenced him with a kiss, his lips dusty and stained with the faint salt of tears. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Karkat whispered.

Dave’s breath was still shuddering, but he nodded. “Thanks,” he said. “So, cultists first, godshit later?”

“Godshit later,” Karkat agreed. “Now let’s get the hell out of here. I think I hate being underground.”

“Me too,” Dave said, and he reached for Karkat’s hand and twined their fingers together like a lifeline as they walked back up to civilization and out of the oppressive gloom that stalked the temple catacombs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I even flip a table this time or is three flips too much? How long can I drag this joke out before PETA comes after me to save the long-dead horse and confiscate the stick I'm currently beating it with??? 
> 
> But yEs, plot... It's here. We're reaching the end guys. Only a few chapters left. I'd tell you how many exactly but SPOILERS.


	15. The Aspects of a Tangled Knot of Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is so hard to keep up with my writing during school, so I hope this extremely long 10k chapter makes up for the extra week it's been since I last updated. 
> 
> I snuck some new characters into this one, can you find them??? ;) 
> 
>  
> 
> Also I feel like some parts are rushed I'm sorry i just had to get this part done. No more procrastinating!

They retrieved their horses and were gone as the sun slipped below the far horizon. The maddened noise of the city’s festival reached its clashing crescendo, and when a shadow fell across the land with the rise of the night so did an echoing silence as at last Canton bowed its head in silent prayer. The Day of Silence was over and the city could rest easy without the weight of its secrets for another year. 

“Where are we going next?” Karkat asked, his breath snatching at the air as he raced alongside of Dave’s horse. His mare had been cooped up all day, and she was running hot and eager beneath him as they ate away the dusty miles.

“John turned the hurricane back to sea today,” Dave said, his white hair blasted back across his forehead as strands of his horse’s gray mane danced across his cheek. “He found out where some cultists are meeting up while he was poking around the coastal cities and probably scaring the shit out of a few lesser priests. There’s a hamlet ahead, and from what I’ve been told the cultists have a dozen men gathered and waiting to attack.”

“Attack?” Karkat asked, his face grim as he urged his horse to pick up her pace. The moon was bright tonight, and he could see through the shadows in the trees with ease. The road was a silver ribbon unspooling before them and he felt wide awake.

“We won’t be late,” Dave promised. “We’ll get there as the sun rises, and then we can stop these batshit cultists before they decide that genocide is on their day’s itinerary.”

Karkat turned back to the road, determined to keep his focus on stopping the hemocaste cultists before chaos broke out over their subversive ass-backwards philosophies. 

The night passed in a blink. All too soon the forest was done with and the sky was bleeding pink through the clouds. It seemed like Karkat had left Canton with Dave only an hour ago and now the entire night was gone. Karkat didn’t even feel a hint of fatigue. He suspected time shenanigans. 

Dave had been right. Around the bend of the next curve of the road, hidden in the lee of a rocky hill, was a small hamlet. The smoke of wood fires rose merrily from chimney stacks as the day’s activities began.

“Dave?” Karkat asked as they rode close. “Did you make sure that we would make it here on time?”

“What?” Dave asked, his eyes narrowed in concentration as a crow called out from the town.

“We’re here already,” Karkat pointed out. “The sun’s rising. It’s only been a little over an hour since it set.”

Dave gave him a strange look. “Karkat,” he said. “Are you feeling alright?”

Something in the god’s tone was off, and a stone-like object settled low and heavy in Karkat’s gut. “You didn’t use your time bullshit, did you?” he asked. 

Dave shook his head, his horse slowing. “No,” he said. “I don’t really fuck with the timeline anymore. I mean, minor loops and localized time freezes, sure, but anything that effects the entire timeline is a no-go.”   
Dave shrugged, his shoulders lose. “I could do it. Hell, I have done it before almost too many times to count, but that was before, during the game. Me and Aradia made an agreement to keep things running linear in the new universe- only one timeline and it’s the Alpha one. She’d bust my ass if I changed the flow of time throughout the entirety of known and unknown creation just to skip a few hours.”

“Oh,” Karkat said, surprised. “But I’ve seen you manipulate time before.” He’d seen Dave freeze the guards in a ring of red light, but there were other things. Like Dave rusting away the chain that had bound the troll to his quest bed, or just last night when he removed the rust and age on the door to the Knight of Blood’s chamber so that he could better read the inscription. What was that if not time fuckery? Karkat asked as much outloud.

Dave looked thoughtful before he responded. “That wasn’t time,” the god answered. “That was destruction and entropy.” Dave turned to stare at Karkat, his eyes steady. “I don’t fuck around with the timeline anymore. That’s one of the rules.”

“How many of these rules are there?” Karkat asked curiously. “And did you create them?”

“We did,” Dave confirmed. “There’s only really three big ones. Don’t mess with the timeline or death, don’t get too involved, and keep the world in good order, i.e, don’t let hemocaste fucks or subjugglators get back on their bullshit. It’s not that much to follow but these rules exist for a reason, Karkat.” Dave ran a hand through his pale hair and shook himself like he was ridding bad thoughts. “Breaking them has consequences that not even we can prevent, do you understand?”

“I think so,” the troll answered. Karkat turned the idea over in his thinkpan as they rode into town. The small hamlet was far too quiet. There were no people in sight, though a nearby brazier was burning merrily. Karkat sat on horseback beside Dave at the entrance to the town’s empty market square and his skin crawled with a tingle of warning that shot up the back of his spine.

He could tell that something was wrong when Dave threw out his arm and pulled his horse to a stop. Karkat followed him, his mare snorting with displeasure as she strained at the bit. The crow called again, its voice ragged and rancorous.

“This is a sloppy ambush,” Dave announced, grinning. “I love it when they have no idea what they’re doing.”

“You’re a fucking hiveshit lunatic, you know that right?” Karkat said, edging his horse closer to Dave. 

“It’s not the cultists,” Dave murmured, still relaxed. “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

Karkat made sure his sickles were in reach and still tied loosely behind him to the back of his saddle. The blades were in reach but he hadn’t had time to practice with the odd weapons yet. If anything, he could always throw them aside and start punching people.

“Stop where you are!” A voice called out. “Don’t more or we’ll shoot!”

Dave held up his hands to the hidden speaker. “We’re not with the cultists,” he answered. “We’re on your side.”

A figure appeared around the edge of a shop, flanked by two others in black and jade. The small group approached with caution, and Karkat caught a glimpse of movement from an archer on the roof. As they drew closer he recognized the uniform they wore. Dave had been right; they weren’t cultists. They were Soldiers. 

The leader was a jadeblood and the insignia stitched at her collar should have exempted her and her squadron from any and all persecutions. No one fucking interfered with Soldiers of the Sylph, and their presence might have been why the small and defenseless hamlet wasn’t in flames. 

“State your name and business here,” the jadeblood snarled, her eyes furious below the tall asymmetrical sweep of her horns. A swathe of hair at her front was dyed a vivid jade to match her eyes.

“We’re mercenaries,” Dave lied. “We heard about the cultists while we were in Canton and thought you could use a hand.”

The lead Soldier stared at him with open distrust. “Mercenaries?” She scoffed. “The two of you? The troll barley comes up to my chest and you’re not even armed.”

Dave didn’t blink. “I’m always armed,” he said, and Karkat fucking believed him. The god still passed as human, but there was an unspoken mantle of danger he carried with him and he didn’t try to hide it from the jadeblood. Even empty-handed, Karkat knew he meant it. The god’s words carried meaning; they had weight. 

“And I’m not that fucking short,” Karkat snarled, insulted.

The jade tilted her head in consideration. “Well at least you’ve got a temper,” she told Karkat disdainfully. “Fine then. I’ll let you help out but so help me if one of you becomes a burden on the Sylph herself I’ll string you up. Am I understood?”

“And your name is?” Dave asked, smiling like he was having fun.

“Bronya,” she said, and gestured to the two fierce-looking trolls at her side, one also jade, the other olive. “And this is Lanque and Polypa. We were investigating the area in preparation for next season’s hatching day when the cultists appeared.”

The oliveblood kept her face and arms covered, and the other jade just stared closely at Dave with narrowed eyes.

“I was a mercenary for years before I joined the Soldiers of the Sylph,” the oliveblood spoke up, her shoulders tensing. “I don’t recognize either of you.” The words were a threat and a suspicious silence fell across them.

Shit. Karkat swallowed thickly, his heart pounding. He hoped that the guilt didn’t show on his face. 

“We’re new,” Dave deadpanned. The god didn’t attempt to bluff her, and the three Soldiers shared a glance.

“If they die it’s on them,” the other jade shrugged. “We could use the help.”

“Fuck yeah,” Dave said, “I’ll take that as a teamwork agreement. You’ve got all of the townspeople out of the way?”

“Of course,” Bronya said, cracking the knuckles of one large and weapon-calloused hand. “We had a few families here sign up for wriggler adoption interviews, and there’s no way I’m letting them get fucking killed by caseist highbloods on a murderspree. Several were extremely promising potential families too.”

“That interspecies couple stood out to me,” Lanque said, nodding in agreement. “They were clearly the best choices.”

“So they’re safe?” Dave asked, still concerned about the townspeople first and foremost.

“No,” Bronya admitted, gritting her teeth. “One’s got a bow on the roof.”

“Shit,” Dave said, sighing. “How many others do you have?”

“It’s just us three Soldiers,” Bronya said, “and the town’s own small militia armed with whatever they could grab.”

That part sounded familiar to Karkat. He understood farmers and shoemakers taking up arms in defense of their home, and it made his blood boil. It was his job to protect them, to shield the innocent, and he might not have understood completely what a Knight of Blood did, but he got the Knight part.

For the first time, Karkat didn’t just feel the need to help others. He didn’t feel the helpless weight of his own broken inefficiency dragging at his heartstrings. Now he felt like he could make a difference and actually help them. Now he could finally fucking act.

“The cultists retreated behind the temples,” Bronya said, frowning. “They’re still there now, maybe two dozen strong. All highbloods.”

“I still say we should burn down temple row,” Polypa said. “That would kill the cultists in the easiest way. They deserve to burn.”

Bronya sighed and passed a hand over her face, her voice thin with patience as her coworker calmly suggested the worst sacrilege imaginable. “No Polypa, we are not burning down this town’s temples and shrines. What would the Sylph think of us if we stooped that low?” She paused to consider something. “If anything, we should be praying for guidance, not throwing torches through temple windows.”

“I don’t pray,” Polypa deadpanned. Dave choked back a snicker. 

Lanque rolled his eyes. “They haven’t attacked the town outright, not yet,” The jadeblood said. “There’s still time to think of better options.”

“I ripped the first two who tried apart,” Polypa said, her covered face expressionless. The woven covers down her arms were flecked with blue and indigo and her voice was hard. “After that I think they had second thoughts about sacking the joint with us here.”

“Damn girl,” Dave said, whistling. “Good work.” He dismounted from his horse with a slide and a step, and Karkat followed him and quickly untied his sickles with shaking hands. The hilts against his palms felt warm from the sun.

Karkat started walking. He had an idea of what Dave was planning, and Dave kept a steady pace behind him as they ducked below the lone archer guarding the town’s square.

“Where are you going?” Bronya asked, jogging to keep up. “The militia is this way.”

“We’re fine,” Karkat said. In his hands the weight of the sickles felt natural and easy. “The cultists are this way, so that’s where we’re going.”

“Told you,” Polypa said, elbowing Lanque smugly. “They’re going to get themselves killed.”

The jade didn’t answer. He was still busy staring directly at Dave as Bronya stuttered and argued.

“Let them go,” Lanque spoke up suddenly, his eyes widening as he considered the hidden god of Time. “Whatever the two of them are planning- I don’t want to see it.”

“What?” Bronya nearly yelled as Karkat winced. The jadeblood fucker must know something. Dave didn’t react, but behind them a crow began laughing. The sound echoed through the silent streets. 

The tense moment passed. “We serve the Sylph,” Lanque said, nodding to Dave. “Space is caring and compassionate but She knows when to rain down Her fury on those that interfere with Her Soldiers’ divine work. Bronya, let them pass. We’re needed elsewhere.”

“No, we’re needed here,” the lead troll said stubbornly. “It’s our job to protect and ensure the future of trollkind, and that means not letting potential families get clubbed to death in their own homes.”

“No one is getting clubbed to death,” Karkat argued back, more than ready to go back to fighting in the manor he was used to. Words, at least, couldn’t actually make anyone bleed no matter how sharp his tongue was. “We can fucking handle this on our own.”

“Who do you think you are?” Bronya challenged, drawing up to her full and impressive height. “What do you think this is? Some kind of game?”

Karkat braced himself for Dave to do something extremely stupid, like answer back with his full title. The Soldier had given him the perfect ironic opportunity too, but Dave didn’t take the bait. Maybe he was taking this seriously.

But then Dave opened his mouth. “I think it’s a good training opportunity for Karkat,” Dave answered shamelessly. “I’ll call it ‘how to stop a riot without shedding blood: part one’”. 

Nevermind, Karkat groaned to himself. The god was an impossible motherfucker and slippery as an eel to pin down. Karkat was still unsurprised by his answer, though he didn’t understand how helpful he could be during a riot or how this upcoming conflict could be stopped without shedding blood. The highbloods weren’t just going to give up. Even for a god solving things peacefully should have been impossible. 

“I say we let them die,” Polypa stated firmly. “Clearly they’re both disturbed arrogant assholes and it’s everyone’s right to choose how they want to go. Bronya, I agree with Lanque on this. Just forget about them.”

“Oh they’re not going to die,” Lanque said simply. “Bronya, calm down. Let’s leave before it starts.”

“Lanque, are you feeling alright?” Bronya demanded to know. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m fine,” the troll defended himself and pulled the collar of his coat tighter around his neck, grinning with fangs longer and more pronounced than most jadebloods could ever hope for. “I just used my eyes is all. Let’s go.”

Bronya opened her mouth, nearly snarling. “We can’t just-”

“You know,” Dave said softly. “You should really listen to him.”

Bronya paused, her voice stuttering off as Dave’s eyes glowed a gentle but fiery red. Karkat had seen the god lose his mortal mask before, but it still felt like blinding scales had been ripped from his eyes as red light shone through the Knight’s translucent skin. The effect was that of a raging firestorm crammed inside a small glass bottle just barley strong enough to hold the flames back. It was a glimpse beneath the surface of the bound Knight of Time, and that faint hint was powerful enough to take Karkat’s breath away. Dave blinked, and the illusion of humanity fell back in place though the god’s eyes were still glowing.

Polypa gasped as she noticed the small army of crows that had gathered and sat watching from the eves of shingled rooftops. Lanque said nothing.

“I can take care of this,” Time said. “You’ve done your job, and you’ve done it well. Space is well pleased with your dedication.”

Bronya swallowed her tongue with speechlessness, her eyes wide. “Oh,” she said. “Oh! You, you-”

“I’ll take it from here,” Dave promised, turning to face the town’s temple row. “None of the townspeople will be harmed, and the cultists will be dealt with swiftly.”

Bronya swallowed thickly, nodding wordlessly. “Okay, my Lord Knight. We will do as you command.”

Dave nodded to her, and the Soldiers of the Sylph clumped together as the dozens of crows lifted into the air in a cloud of black feathers, cawing and shrieking as they flapped overhead. Bronya lightly touched two fingers to the jade insignia at her collar and bowed to the Knight. “Thank you,” she said. “I never thought I’d live to see the Knight of Time ride into town to deal with an army of hemocaste highbloods.”

“Go and take care of the townspeople,” Dave asked. “Make sure your potential families are safe. The Sylph’s Soldiers serve an invaluable role and you three have honored your profession today and I thank you for that, but now I’ve got to go right some wrongs.”

Bronya bowed deeper, her fingers linked under her chin. Lanque looked at Dave with interest and awe, and Polypa’s expression was hard to read, but Karkat thought the troll might have been smiling beneath the tightly wrapped veil she wore. 

“Let’s go,” Lanque said, nodding to Dave. “Thank you.”

The three Soldiers vanished with a quickness, eager to get back to wherever they’d stashed the general populace to reassure them that everything would be alright. The Knight of Time was here to help.

“Do you have a plan?” Karkat asked, swallowing down his suddenly dry throat as he turned back to Dave. He wasn’t afraid, not really, but he couldn’t erase the nagging doubt that crept in, whispering with Heart’s quietly hissing voice that all he had to do to ruin Dave beyond any vestige of hope for recovery was die.

Okay, so maybe he was afraid. That was normal, wasn’t it? Jegus fuck, why shouldn’t he be afraid? For all of Dave’s talk, Karkat was still just a mortal troll and all he had to do to remind himself that he could bleed was look down at where his claws pressed deeply into his palms around the hilts of sickles that his thinkpan never remembered wielding.

“I have a plan,” Dave confirmed. “I’ve broken up riots before. I just need you to stay beside me. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you, I swear.”

“I trust you,” Karkat said, sighing internally.

Dave walked calmly down the center of the road like he hadn’t a care in the world. Karkat kept in his shadow with his sickles drawn and at the ready. These cultists had kidnapped him and had been tormenting everyone for weeks, and part of the troll was eager to strike back at last. 

Before them were the nineteen temples and shrines that formed the small hamlet’s temple row. Most were just cutout shrines and they walked past offerings to the Mage, Void, the Rouge of Heart. There was a single building that stood on it’s own, one with stone walls and a door that was barricaded from the inside. In the dust of the churchyard lay the prone forms of two trolls drenched in blue and indigo. Karkat gingerly stepped over the snapped-off horn from one of Polypa’s victims. Damn. She really had ripped them apart. Holy shit. 

From the roof there was a flicker of movement, and the distinctive twang of a bow. Karkat could only flinch back, the whistle of the arrow streaked at them in a blur, and then Dave reached out and snagged it calmly out of the air. Dave snapped the wooden shaft in half with two fingers.

“Hopefully they won’t try that again,” Dave said wryly.

“Fuck,” Karkat gasped, his heart pounding with the aftermath of the shot. Dave tossed the two halves of the arrow away just in time for more arrows to streak at them.

The god moved too fast for Karkat’s eyes to follow, and a moment later Dave was holding five arrows like a bouquet of flowers. “You know,” Dave said, “You’d think they’d figure out how ineffective this was after the first few tries.”

No more arrows followed them, and Dave waved the fistful of arrows at the temple. “Hey,” he called out. “Get your asses out here or I’m coming in, and I don’t think you want that.”

“Does that normally work?” Karkat asked, still breathing hard as Dave shrugged.

“Sometimes it doesn’t,” the god said. “But I’m pretty determined not to hurt anyone this time, so I’ll give them a chance.” Dave looked at the stone face of the temple and waited. “I’m trying to show you that it’s harder to do things the right way, and we all need reminding of that.”

Karkat kept silent. Dave had killed the lead cultist in the cave, but he’d allowed the rest of the mob to escape unscathed. It probably would be easier to lock the doors and burn them, just as Polypa had said, and it would take nothing for Dave to win. Maybe Dave was right, even when factoring the fact that these were actual hemocaste cultist fucks. They were still trolls. Misguided and delusional trolls, but people. Maybe mercy was harder. 

Another arrow streaked at them, shorter and faster than the rest. A crossbow bolt, aimed directly at Karkat’s face.

Karkat didn’t flinch this time as Dave snagged it no less than eight inches away from puncturing the troll’s left eye. Dave scowled as he tossed the bolt aside.

“Let’s head inside then,” Dave said, frowning seriously.

The door was made of new wood and iron, and there was movement from the window as the curtains ruffled and a sliver of a gray face peeked into sight.

The highblood snarled at them, then gulped and ducked back out of sight.

“I don’t know I can’t tell!” Karkat heard the whispered argument.

“How the fuck can we tell?” Came another burly voice. “Let’s just kill them both.”

“Motherfucker done caught a fuckin bolt, right in his hand,” Some other troll said, his voice rushed. “It’s either a magician from Canton or a god’s fucking Champion.”

“But which god?”

Dave smiled a grim smile and winked at Karkat. “Time to introduce myself,” the god of Time said, and Dave launched a bolt of crackling red light through the door. The wood and iron exploded backwards with a bang, splinters blasting through the air. Yells of shock and the tangled chaos of confusion and panic came from inside the temple.

Dave ducked through the freshly created doorway and Karkat barreled in after him, expecting the brawl that awaited them with sickles bared. 

There were over a dozen trolls crammed into the dark room. They’d drawn the curtains and doused the fires to take cover in the dark confines of the old stone church. Smoke filled the space and made the air sharp with the spice of incense. The temple was a mess- they’d looted the shrines and stolen the offerings. The individual alcoves to the gods had been left untouched and the painted faces of the other gods watched with blank eyes from the walls.

“Who the fuck are you?” A mountain of a troll challenged, snarling with vicious intent. The tall spirals of the violetblooded seadweller’s horns were chipped and knocked ragged with sweeps of fighting.

“They’re not more of the Sylph’s sect of babynannies,” One troll said, raising his clubs. “I’ll cull these dumb motherfuckers my own self, magicians be damned.”

Dave shrugged, and fire licked up from where his boots touched the stone. Flame raced its way along the base of the walls and cast the room in its fierce glow, trapping them in a ring of fire. Dave’s eyes were blazing red as magic traced its way up the walls and across the ceiling in runes of power. It looked like they were standing in the core of a pit to hell, and Dave looked in no way human.

The god was back in his red outfit, and his cape flowed behind him. On his chest the Godsign of Time was emblazoned, and the room fell silent as they realized exactly who they’d threatened.

The troll with the clubs froze, his weapons still raised as Dave raised one pale eyebrow. “Go on,” the god taunted. “I fucking dare you.”

The troll was shaking so hard that the clubs fell from his hands and clashed to the ground.

“That’s what I thought,” Dave said. “I’m not a fucking magician. I am so much worse than anything your poor mortal thinkpan can imagine.” Dave considered the group of mixed trolls, ranging from high curlean to violet. He did not look happy.

“No one gets in,” Time said, and the runes on the walls flared in response to his words. “And no one gets out. Every troll in this room is hereby judged guilty of attempting to reinstate the hemospectrum and the penalty for breaking what’s literally the easiest fucking rule to follow, you utter morons, is death.”

Karkat wasn’t sure how this worked for the ‘not kill anyone’ plan, but he understood the value of sheer intimidation as Dave played off the cultist’s instinctive and ingrained fear of him. If he didn’t know Dave personally, seeing the motherfucking Knight of Time law down the law would have made him shit his pants in terror. There was a reason no one fucked with the gods and Karkat was witnessing why up close and in person.

“Yep,” Time said cheerfully. “All of your lives are forfeit to me, effective as of right now. Before I get to the ‘any last words’ part, I’d like to speak to who’s in charge.”

No one so much as twitched. “Three seconds to show yourself or I kill everyone twice as slow,” Dave warned, his voice flat and uncompromising. Karkat hissed in a breath at the threat, but he stood his ground and trusted in Dave to keep his word.

There was a rushed shuffle, and a shorter blueblood with small horns that ended in blunt points stepped closer. The slim sword in her hand didn’t tremble. “I am,” she said. “It’s me. I’m in charge.”

Dave frowned at her, his eyes bloody and expressionless. “Three points for loyalty,” he said, “but I’m not so easily fooled.” He held out his hand, and a sword fell into his open palm. The strange weapon glittered coldly in the firelight, the blade not one of steel but some white material that sang with ancient power. It didn’t reflect the firelight; instead, it glowed with a magic of it’s own. He pointed the sword directly at the mob of cultists and its wicked point came to rest pointed directly at the lone seadweller.

“It’s you,” Time said, certain and unflinching. “Step forward, coward.”

The seadweller strode forward, his shoulders tense and his face pale with fear.

“No,” the cerulean protested, raising her sword. “No, I wo-” She didn’t finish her sentence as Dave slung a ring of red light at her without so much as glancing in her directing. The troll froze, sword upheld and snarl in place, trapped motionless in Karkat recognized from the courtblock when Dave had frozen the guards.

“Why?” Dave asked the seadewlling troll, completely ignoring the blueblood he’d frozen. “What made you and the other caseist leaders think attempting to summon and bind me to your will would work? Because it really pissed me off. You know that the hemocaste has been outlawed by all of the gods, so why go against the natural order of the world and lash out at your neighbors? Jegus, look around. You sacked and looted a fucking temple! Were you arrogant enough to imagine that the gods wouldn’t notice?”

“You dare to speak of the natural order to me, when it’s you that’s the one against the way of things?” The cultist asked, his hands in clawed fists at his sides. “God or not, Time, you’re noting but a freak even among your own unnatural kind. Always left out, forgotten, but when called by the cruel and unjust gods you claim to be equal to- equal! Like they give a shit about the rabid dog they send to clean up after themselves, you run to do their bidding. Yes, we decided to summon you, to ask if you, the god who is every bit as unjustly valued as we are, would help us in our task. All we want is the recognition we deserve! The recognition that is granted to us by birth as the most pure and most perfect of all trollkind!” The seadweller was out of breath by the time he was finished with his rant, his face still pale but defiant. 

“Is that what you really think?” Dave asked, coldly quiet. 

“Am I wrong?” The cultist challenged. “Here you are, just as I said. Cleaning up the ‘mistakes’ that the gods have marked us as just like I knew. The other gods don’t treat you fairly. You think we haven’t noticed how often you’re left out of shrines and holy events? You’re not even a footnote in this worthless town’s churches! Time, clearly you of all gods understand our plight. We just want to be treated akin with our dues.” The troll pleaded, his voice beseeching. 

“Dues?” Dave asked, his voice a warning the highblood didn’t heed. 

“It’s not fair,” the troll said. “For you or us, Knight. Together we could be great. We would give you the adoration deserved. We would built temples and shrines and hold feasts in your honor- no longer would you be the god on the sidelines, but revered by a loyal people.”

“Don’t you know that life’s not fucking fair?” the Knight asked, suddenly furious, his hard face illuminated with holy wrath. “You understand nothing of the gods, and yet you dare to stand there and claim that you know better?”

The seadweller shrank back, covering his face with his hands as the fire surrounding them flared brighter. The heat licked at Karkat’s back and hands and reflected off of the blades of his sickles with glee. This was… starting to get uncomfortable. And not just because of the heat.

Dave looked the seadweller over one last time and his eyes were frighteningly cold. “I have judged you,” he said, “and I see that you’re lacking in mercy and compassion. Your heart has been corrupted by your own ego and greed, and since you’ve done nothing productive with this life you’ve been so mercifully granted, I hereby revoke the terms of your existence.”

“What?” The violetblood asked, his voice sloppy with panic and terror as he blundered. “Time, please-”

“I’m going to have to void your birth,” Dave continued emotionlessly. “As you have failed to contribute to this society and have violated the most basic law of them all, I’m cancelling out your very birth. I hope you enjoy the painful bliss of being undone. Goodbye.”

Dave snapped his fingers, and the seadweller vanished into nothingness without so much as a flicker of warning. There one second, gone the next. Karkat blinked at the area where the cultist had stood, trying to understand what had happened, but the troll was gone. Not even his boots were left. It was like he had never been in the church at all. 

The other cultists came unglued, clawing at each other and wailing. A few threw themselves to the ground and prayed for mercy. 

“Mercy?” Time asked as Karkat edged closer to the god, ready to warn Dave that maybe this was going too far. 

“If it was up to me, I’d kill everyone in this room,” Time promised. “You have broken the law and harmed your fellow trolls and the world would not miss you. But it’s not up to me. Karkat? What do you think?”

This was an act, Karkat knew that. It was a staged play with Dave in complete control of the outcome. They both knew that the plan ended with no fatalities, but they had to make it look real. Fuck. This was harder.

Karkat stepped forward and raised his sickles. “Remember me?” he asked, fitting himself into the narrative with relative ease. He was used to snarling and yelling at people to get them to stop fucking up, and the principle here was the same. Be loud, be brash and showy, but in the end be all bark and no bite. “I’m the mutant troll you fuckers tried to kill.”

Leaderless, the cultists squabbled around like a headless chicken. It was exceedingly pathetic to watch.

“What do you say we do to them?” Dave asked, deferring to Karkat as if on cue. 

Karkat made a show of considering his options. “Well,” he began. “We got the leader and the rest will be okay to kill too, but maybe spare the ones that truly repent. It seems wrong to kill a troll praying for forgiveness, even if they don’t deserve it.”

“If you say so,” Dave said with a wink, raising his sword with an almost comical slowness.

The cultists still standing quickly caught on and threw themselves to the ground in submission alongside the first few who had fallen. “We repent,” they said. “Lord, we repent.”

“And will you forswear the hemocaste?” Dave asked. “If I had things my way, I would call the Bard and watch as you scrawl yourselves across the walls with mirth until you bleed out. Rage has been eating the hearts out cultist scum like you up and down the land today. Maybe it’s mercy enough that I’m the one who got to you first,” the god said rationally.

“We forswear,” they promised tearfully. 

“And will you go back to your old lives and live as equals with your neighbors? Will you preach peace and acceptance and never raise a hand in anger against another being?” Dave asked. “Because I will know it if you do, and I promise that I’ll kill you myself before the blow falls.”

“We will,” they agreed. “No more violence.”

“Will this suffice to you?” Dave asked Karkat. “You are the one who was wronged by them, so their fate is up to you.”

“I’ll allow it,” Karkat said, relieved that the scene was clearing up.

“Are you sure?” The Knight of Time asked seriously. “If you choose to free them I’ll stand by my word.”

“I’m sure,” Karkat said.

The ring of fire began to die down. The glow from the runes faded, and with the oppressive red light gone the color returned to the world. The cerulean troll was freed from the time-freeze and stumbled forward. Dave easily knocked her sword aside as she lunged to complete the move she’d started nearly ten minutes ago.

“You’re being given a choice,” Dave told the stunned troll as she blinked around in shock. “Surrender your sword and repent, or die as your leader has.”

"Where is he?" She asked, stammering, spinning around in vain to try and find the seadweller. "What did you do to him?"

"Forget him," Time said, waving away her concerns. "He never deserved you."

She sucked in a hissed sob, but her eyes were dry as the blueblood looked over her comrades, and wordlessly she turned her blade around and held it out to the god hilt-first, kneeling. “As you command, Knight,” she said, her voice shaking.

The rest of the trolls surrendered their weapons and the god of Swords took every one. Karkat had no idea where all of the blades and clubs disappeared to once Dave held them in his hand. It was just another fact of god-magic that made no sense.

The temple was put back to order, with all of its looted goods and offerings replaced. One troll even took the time to polish the candlesticks he’d stolen before replacing them. Karkat helped round the guilty trolls up and herd them single-file out of the back door, and once freed they took off running full-speed, desperate to put as much ground between them and the god of Time as they could manage. 

Karkat closed the door, and the temple church was empty of cultists. They’d won.

“And that,” Dave said, suddenly sounding weary. “Is how to break up a riot and have all of its members go on and live their happy lives, hopefully reformed.”

“I think I need a minute to fully process what the actual fuck just happened,” Karkat said, taking a seat in a pew. With the cultists gone a headache was starting to form between his ears. “What did you do to the first guy?”

Dave shrugged and sat beside Karkat, now once again in his mortal disguise with his cape spread out around him. “I froze the room in time, removed him, had a nice long chat about why genocide is fucking wrong, debated the finer points of theology and religious doctrine with him so that his ideas of the gods weren’t so god awful and generally fucked up, and told him why if he ever so much as looks at another troll with warmer blood in a way I don’t like I’ll gladly relieve him of every single one of his internal organs in order of least to most important, and then I dropped him off five or so miles away, came back here, and unfroze the room so that it looked like the guy had just vanished.” Dave smiled to himself, but it wasn’t a happy expression. “I’m pretty sure he’s going to become a monk now. He seemed really passionate about the idea by the end of our talk.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” Karkat breathed, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Not this time,” Dave said. “Apparently I can add ‘converting cult leaders into the church’ to my resume. Haldoc will shit a brick if he finds out.”

“Holy living fuck Dave,” Karkat said, laughing weakly. It was just so incredible. “I think we just made history.”

“What? This?” Dave said, already shaking his head. “No, this entire event will be nothing but a footnote in the history textbooks one day.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Karkat said, frowning at the stone floor. He felt the weight of the painted eyes of the other gods watching him. “But to those trolls and this town, it will mean the world.”

Was this what it felt like to succeed? The temple was spotless, the town still standing, and it’s people were safe. Those dozen or so cultist trolls would never dare to bother anyone ever again, and Dave had accomplished all of this without even throwing a punch. It was a good feeling, and warmth curled up in his chest with a merry glow. This was what it meant to protect people- this was being a Knight. 

“It feels good to think that we did the right thing,” Dave said. “There’s nothing I hate more than killing. It’s good to see that some things can still be solved peacefully.” The god looked down at himself and noticed that he was still wearing the strange red uniform of his class, and with a grunt Dave switched outfits again so that he was back in the worn and battered peasant’s fare from before Canton.

“I can’t fix the door to the church,” Dave winced, nudging a splinter with the toe of his boot. “But all in all, if a door’s the only casualty I think we did alright.”

“Doors can be replaced,” the troll said. “People can’t.”

“That’s the hardest lesson of them all to learn,” Dave said. “And as time goes by it just gets harder. Everything ages, but we stay the same. I’m always wondering if I’ve done the right thing. Even I can’t see all of the outcomes. I can only hope they’re good ones.”

“I’m sure things will be fine,” Karkat said, dizzy with the high that came before the crash of adrenaline. His headache was growing stronger and he leaned slowly to the side until Dave shifted closer. The god was warm and still carried the scent of smoke and incense. 

They stayed like that, wordlessly, side by side in the empty temple church until Karkat slowly began to relax as his heartbeat calmed. His eyelids began to droop. His sleepless night caught up to him with a vengeance. 

Dave noticed the impending nap and gently nudged alertness back into the troll. “We shouldn’t stay here,” he said. “The Soldiers of the Sylph and the militia will eventually grow brave enough to investigate what happened for themselves. It’s best that we’re gone before then.”

“If you say so,” Karkat said, yawning. “I haven’t felt this exhausted in months.”

“You can sleep all you want,” Dave promised, and Karkat reluctantly straightened up and stretched the sleep out of his back. A crow called out, and the bird swooped in through the shattered doorway and perched smugly at the head of the alter. It shook out its thick feathers and settled in, preening.

Dave just shrugged at the crow. “What an asshole,” he said. “It’s official. All crows are assholes, every last one of them. Look at the smug fucker making himself at home. God. He’s such an asshole.”

“You’re rambling again,” Karkat pointed out, rolling his eyes. “Back to the horses it is,” he said, looping his sickles back through the loops at his sides. Dave took a second to sweep most of the remains of the door into a small pile for the worshippers to find, and then they left.

Somehow Karkat’s horse had freed herself of the slipknot he’d left her in, so when they turned the corner his mare nickered and trotted over to him with her ears perked. The frayed end of the leadrope was clean and uncut when he picked it up. “What the fuck?”

Dave whistled and his old plowhorse also trotted over to him, free of his binding. Dave scratched at the horse’s ears as he studied the dust around the horse hitches. “Someone untied them,” he said, smiling as he scratched his horse. The gray-faced animal leaned its entire head and neck into the touch. “Good horse,” Dave murmured. “Thanks for not running off.”

Karkat shrugged. “Let’s get out of here before we meet whoever untied them.”

“Too late,” Dave whispered, his eyes flickering up with a wink.

Karkat pulled himself up into the saddle and they left the small town at an easy canter, three Soldiers of the Sylph watching silently from a rooftop as the mutant troll and god of Time vanished back into the forest.   
…

 

They stopped by a creek that ran black and sluggish through the tangled tree roots. There were apple trees growing wild here, and both Karkat and the horses were glad for the small but sweet fruits. It was barely noon and the sun was high. The trees blocked out most of the sunlight to cast mottled shadows across the leafy ground as Karkat rolled out his bedroll beneath one of the apple trees. He was intending to safely nap the rest of the day away and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the blankets. 

This time he knew that he was dreaming at once. He was standing somewhere unfamiliar and the sky was bright overhead, screaming vivid colors through a mess of shattering light and chaos and in the dream he didn’t remember what was going on. Where was Dave? What was happening?

The air shook with the force of an explosion he never saw. There was no flash of light, no fire, only the forceful exhale of a power that shook him to the roots of his dull teeth.

He knew one thing- This was a fight between gods. A single lone troll had no place on this battlefield.

He wasn’t alone. There was someone he had never seen beside him, someone who cringed lower and lower with each strangled scream that rang out. No matter where Karkat turned his head, desperately searching for the source of the noise, he saw nothing but darkness and blinding light. 

“We’re going to lose,” The stranger said, her head bowed and her face covered with a dark cowl as she rocked back and forth with her thin arms drawn up to her knees. “We can’t win against him.”

Karkat knelt beside her, dropping his sickles to the ground with a clatter. “What can we do?” he asked, his throat harsh and scratchy from crying. Pieces of the dream started coming back to him in jolts and flashes; the sky on fire, planets colliding, the black and white Monarchs dead in the dust of their shattered worlds, a cold and cruel laughter that rang out from existence itself, flickering through every color of the rainbow in a seizure-inducing span. They were in danger, Dave was in danger. He could be dying right now and Karkat couldn’t do anything he was h e l p l e s s. 

“What can we do?” Karkat demanded, shaking. He was wound tight enough that actually snapping apart at the seams felt possible. He would dig his claws beneath his skin if it would rip the feeling out, this suffocating helplessness that marooned him on this rock to hear the destruction of those he loved.

“I have to lose,” The stranger said, her voice strangely calm. “That’s how we win. I have to lose to him.”

“What can I do?” Karkat asked. “Calliope, please.”

“I can’t do it alone,” she said, still not looking at him. “I can’t; I’m not enough. I can make the gate, but there needs to be a sacrifice. Someone has to pay the price.”

Someone has to pay the price…. . . .

He woke to Dave shaking him awake, tears coating his cheeks as reality slammed back into him with the force of a punch. His head and eyes were swimming.

“It’s okay,” Dave told him, urgently patting away the tears, his fingers shaking. “Karkat, it’s okay it was just a dream.”

“No,” Karkat spat, twisting away, grasping for the faint dredges of the memory he could feel sliding into place in his mind. Now awake, he could feel the newness of it. He could feel how it’s colors and scents stuck out, feel the hand that dropped it into place between the folds of the narrative he was building, it’s ginger fingers already retreating back to the hole in his mind as he desperately grabbed at it, inwardly and outwardly screeching out a prayer because godfuckingdammit he wasn’t going to let the answers slip through his fingers this time. “Terezi!”

The Seer of Mind dove into his thinkpan with a vengeance, diving straight for the black sucking void that filled the center of his head with numb fog and the Seer didn’t stop when she reached the edge of the gap- she threw herself headfirst down it, every bit as ferociously determined as Karkat was to rip some answers out of his own fractured memory. Everything whited out. 

Karkat slowly came back into himself, sick with vertigo. He’d broken into a cold sweat, and when he blinked his eyes open the first thing he saw was Dave’s panicked face hovering over him. 

“Karkat? Karkat can you hear me?” Dave asked through miles of water. 

Opening his eyes hurt; it was too bright, but he couldn’t stand the darkness behind his closed lids so he peeled his eyes open. His face felt frozen. The opaque and insubstantial outline of the unbound Mind hovered at Dave’s side like a green and red whisp. Her red eyes were wide with shock.

“Holy fuck,” Karkat coughed, groaning. It felt like he’d been kicked by a horse. In the head. Repeatedly. 

“Are you alright?” Dave asked, his left hand tearing up blades of grass at his side from where he knelt beside Karkat, still tangled up in the sweaty nest of blankets and bedroll that he’d been thrashing around on in the fallen leaves. 

“I don’t know,” Karkat answered truthfully, looking at Terezi. “Am I?” he asked. 

Terezi said nothing and her hands were shaking.

Karkat gagged, a wave of dizziness washing over him as he choked on bile and Dave lurched forward to hold him upright and free him from the blankets in time to throw up breakfast. The god looked helplessly at his friend while Karkat hacked up the components of his stomach, cradled in his arms.

“What can I do?” Dave asked. “Terezi, please.”

Karkat flinched from hearing the words he’d just had branded into his mind reversed. Jegus. Fuck. He was running out of words to describe what was happening. He couldn’t feel his legs.

“Oh no,” Terezi said, finally speaking. He face was split with an insane grin that made no sense. “Holy fucking shit.”

“Terezi what the fuck?” Dave demanded. “What the hell is going on?”

Mind knelt swiftly beside Karkat and her icy fingers ghosted across his face. His skin was so fevered that the touch felt cold enough to burn. “He remembered something he shouldn’t have,” Terezi said. “He can’t take it. The memory is too much for his mortal mind to handle so he’s rejecting it.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Dave asked, or a least Karkat thought he did. It was getting hard to tell what was going on. Everything was bright noise and shadow. 

“I’ll shield him from the memory for now,” Terezi promised, her form fizzling out as his eyes closed. “I think I finally understand what’s going on.” Her cold fingers brushed against his temples like water and…

And…  
…

And…  
…

And why the fuck was he lying on the ground? And why did his mouth taste like he’d licked the soles of his traveling boots? Goddamn that was nasty.

Karkat opened his eyes, and the first thing he noticed was that Terezi was gone. Wait. Why would Mind be here? What the fuck?

“Dave?” he asked, and suddenly Dave was there and he scooped the troll up into his arms.

Dave bundled Karkat to him and hugged him tightly. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” Dave told him, rubbing his back comfortingly. 

“What the fuck?” Karkat said out loud, beyond exasperation and bowling straight into rage. “What’s going on?”

“You reclaimed another memory,” Dave said, still tightly hugging the troll. “I don’t know which one, but it must have been bad. It’s okay, Terezi was here. She made it so that the memory can’t shatter your concepts of reality and self.”

“Terezi?” Karkat croaked, his throat sore. “I… I don’t remember her,” he realized, his eyes widening. “I don’t remember what just happened.” He looked around. They were still in the apple grove. The horses were grazing and resting peacefully. The sun was just as high as it was when he last closed his eyes. What was going on?

“Yes you do,” Dave said. “You remember whatever new memory triggered this as well, but Terezi is shielding your awareness from acknowledging it. The memory was too much for you to handle, goddammit!” Dave said, huffing, refusing to let go of Karkat. “This is what I’ve been trying to avoid. I’ve been so careful about not overloading your memory and you go and do it all on your own and nearly give me a heart attack.”

“I,I,” Karkat stuttered, unsure of what to say. What was there to say?

He embraced Dave back, wrapping his confused arms around the god’s shoulders. “Shit,” he said. 

“Shit,” Dave agreed. 

“Alright, I’m done,” Karkat shrugging free of Dave’s hug. He was still close enough to pick out all the different shades of red in his eyes, and catch the sunlight shining through Dave’s pale eyelashes. He was highly temped to kiss him again, but his mouth still tasted like vomit and no. Bad idea. “I’m okay, really.” Karat said, “I’m done and it’s over. My thinkpan is working just fine. No more fucking around and fucking up. What’s next?” He asked, trying to get back to the established normalcy they’d been working under. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Dave said, smirking, his face relieved as he teased Karkat. “You only managed two hours of sleep before you so inconveniently screamed yourself awake. You need more rest.”

“I can sleep later,” Karkat argued. “I feel fine.”

“The horses also need to sleep,” Dave said reasonably.

Fuck, the smug god had a point. Karkat scowled at him. “I don’t think I can sleep now,” he admitted. “What if I dream again?”

He was beginning to remember bits of things. Not the memory or the dream or whatever itself, but the parts that came after. He remembered waking up, choking, Dave pleading with Terezi to help. His rebellious stomach churned again and he fought back nausea. What the fuck had he remembered?

“I’ll be right here waiting,” Dave promised. “I’ll chase away any bad dreams.”

Karkat sighed. “Saying things like that isn’t fair when I can’t kiss you,” he complained. He untangled his ankles from the snarl of blankets and straightened out his bedroll as Dave laughed. 

Karkat hesitated right before he laid back down. He wasn’t sure how to say this. He wasn’t used to asking for comfort, or even really feeling like he deserved it. But luckily the troll didn’t need to say anything. The other Knight knew. 

Dave caught the way Karkat’s hands had stilled on the blanket, his knuckles pale and ashy. “You need to sleep,” the god said. “Scoot over.”

With relief, Karkat eagerly made room for Dave. He rolled over and pressed his back against the god’s warm chest as Dave slipped an arm around him and slipped a light, teasing kiss between his horns.   
“Terezi said there’s a second hemocaste group getting ready to sack another town,” Dave said, whispering with his lips beside Karkat’s ear so that his breath shivered across the skin there. “It’s a full day’s ride away.”

“Let me guess what that means,” Karkat said, his heartbeat slowly relaxing. “Another insane heist?”

“Pretty much,” Dave answered, “so rest up. We’ve got some more heads to bash tomorrow.”

“Ha,” Karkat huffed, closing his eyes. This time sleep was slow to find him again, but when it did he slept peacefully. No bad dream dared to disturb him.  
…

 

They spent the night riding again, with a short break at dawn to eat and rest the horses.

“It’s a really small, secluded place,” Dave said. “Smaller than the last town.”

“Why are they attacking towns at all?” Karkat asked, wringing water from the hem of his pants. It had rained here and the grass was soaked. The horses were loving it, but Karkat was not fond of the dampness and the mugginess of the air after the shower. 

“To spread fear,” Dave shrugged. That’s always the first step to throwing a terroristic aimed revolution, right after gathering up the members to form the elitists’ cult. The poor and the weak always suffer first.”

Karkat took a second to thing about how the world might have looked if the gods weren’t constantly looking out for man and troll kind, making sure no one fucked things up too badly. It was a miracle there had been any peace whatsoever between the races, if miracles came dressed in red and white.

“How much longer?” Karkat asked, saddling his horse again. He was quickly growing accustomed to spending long hours in the saddle. His back and hips no longer ached with the constant wear. 

“Tomorrow,” Dave answered. “They’ll attack tomorrow. We’ll get there a few hours in advance.”

They set out again, west, to where the sun set and the land became dry and grassy. They rode easy and passed no other travelers. Occasionally a crow would circle overhead before winging back off to the horizon, but other than that the plain was devoid of other life. It was a sea of brown and yellow grass that crunched beneath the horse’s hooves.

They turned a bend at a light trot, the rocky hills in the distance hazy with smoke. There must have been a small brushfire, lightning-birthed probably. But Dave drew his horse to a sudden stop, his eyes on the distant smoke.

“What is it?” Karkat asked, concerned. He squinted at the smudgy plume, but the distance made details indistinct and unknown. “Dave?”

A black dot grew larger in the sky, the crow rapidly gaining wing as it barreled at them, screeching. The crow dived at them with a desperate caw, clawing and flapping to be noticed. Dave still stood frozen, before his red eyes widened and his face drained of what little color it had. “Ride!” He yelled, spurring his horse into a gallop.

Karkat streaked after him, hastily untying his sickled with dread as he urged the mare faster and faster. The hills grew closer, a mob of crows circling like vultures in smoke that didn’t smell like a brushfire. They crested the hill at full-gallop and the town was spread out before them in a picture of ruin.

Cursing, Karkat yanked at the reigns, the mare biting at the bit and turning her head as she skidded to a halt.

“Stay close to me,” Dave ordered, his voice shaking. 

They entered the town at a walk, their horses balking at the smoke and crumbling embers of torched buildings. A dog limped across the dust-and-ash road in front of them, it’s shaggy head lowered and one leg raised. The few battered people they passed looked at them with blank, fearful gazes, crouched in doorways and around overturned carts. Someone somewhere was wailing.

The sound drew closer as they approached the town’s square unchallenged.

“What happened here?” Karkat asked, his hands in fists. The hamlet had been raided. He knew what happened. He could read the defeat and despair in the shoulders of the survivors. 

Dave didn’t answer, his mouth set in a flat, unfeeling line as he continued to pick his way through the debris. There was a crowd ahead, clustered around the center of the small market square. To the left a stone and thatch building still burned. The crying and muttering cut off as the horses drew near, and the crowd split around them like waves in the sudden silence.

A woman was still wailing, her grief and heartbroken anguish rang out for all to hear as she knelt in the dust, her torn dress bloody and her thin arms locked around the smaller body she cradled to her chest.

Karkat knew what he would see before he looked. He knew how the world worked, and he knew that note of agony in a mother’s voice and what it meant. It didn’t make the incredulous horror any easier to bear as he took in the stark and cruel scene before him. 

Dave drew his horse to a stop, staring straight ahead, his aging horse snorting and pawing at the bloody ground. The human woman cried out again, rocking back and forth over the still body of her rustblooded child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry
> 
>  
> 
> Will it make things better or worse to know that there's only two chapters left?


	16. Blood, Blood, and More Blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't generally give warnings before each chapter because the tags exist for a reason, but, like, be warned?
> 
> I'm sorry about that last cliffhanger as well, but it needed to be done. Here's the next chapter to make up for it through!
> 
> (Note to self, learn How to Italics in A03)

The woman wailed again and the noise set Karkat’s teeth on edge. His hands twisted in his reigns. Gods. The wriggler couldn’t have been more than six sweeps old. The blood staining the ground around him was only a few shades more socially acceptable than Karkat’s own mutant red, but not high enough-never high enough to satisfy the colder bloods that thought blue and purple were the only beautiful colors. 

Dave was still frozen, his shoulders hunched as if he were in pain. Every wail of grief-stricken agony pierced the troll to the core and made itself at home between his guilt and his shame. The God of Time was too late. They were too late. 

“What the hell happened here?” Karkat grabbed the attention of a bronzeblood nearby. Several people looked at him with dull eyes. No one answered. It didn’t matter, Karkat knew what happened.

“You should leave this place,” A man told him, wiping blood from his forehead. “I can make the shade of your eyes from here. Those subjugglators will be coming back,” he said, his voice thick with false-sympathy that made Karkat’s blood curdle like spoiled milk as the man went on. “You see what they do to trolls like you.”

The words were a whip-crack and Karkat scowled and turned away, fighting back tears. Dave was still staring. He hadn’t so much as moved since he’d seen the dead wriggler.

“I’d like to see them fucking try,” Karkat growled back, blinking away the scene that so easily might have been him a few sweeps ago. Rust, rust, not red, but gods the blood looked the same mixed in with the dust. He spurred his horse closer to Dave and kept his voice low. “Dave? Dave, let’s go. The cultists will be back. We can’t help what happened here, but we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He wanted to hit something. He wanted to take out his sickles and use them. What kind of Knights were they if they couldn’t save a single child? All the power in the world couldn’t help this. 

“Dave?” Karkat tried again to provoke a response. “Dave, c’mon. Snap out of it,’ he pleaded, hating how pathetic he sounded. 

Dave turned at last to look at him, so slowly, and when he did his eyes were burning with red fire. They shone like drops of blood in his pale face. “Fuck it,” the god of Time cursed, his voice shaking. “Fuck everything. I have to fix this.”

Dave slid out of the saddle, his shoulders sharp with intent. Karkat did the same, and he numbly accepted Dave’s reigns when the god handed them over. “Stay back,” Dave warned him. “Shit’s about to get fucking wild.”

“What are you doing?” Karkat hissed, sending panicked glances at the crowd.

“I’m breaking the rules,” Dave answered back simply.

Karkat snatched his sickles from behind his saddle and hung them at his hips, prepared for whatever godtier bullshit Dave was about to pull. 

Dave strode forward, still in peasant clothes, still visibly human. He approached the weeping woman and slowly knelt down across from her. His pale hands covered hers where she clutched at her child. At the touch she looked up, still crying with open-mouthed heaves. She froze though, mid-sob, when she stared directly into the god of Time’s face.

Dave held one finger over his lips in a classic ‘shhhh’, then his red eyes flickered down to the slain child. The townspeople began to fall silent as one by one they noticed what was happening before them. The woman stuttered, her lips trembling, but Dave was focused entirely on the child as he took over. Even firmly human the god shone with an otherworldly aura, eternal and infinite in a unspoken way that made everyone instinctively stop and stare. 

The Knight folded the boy’s arms across his thin chest, briefly flashing the bare wrists up to reveal the long, ugly rips where the cultists had bled him out. Dave plucked a short dagger that had fallen from the boy’s limp fingers and set it aside, his face expressionless. He folded the stick-thin arms down to cover the wounds at his wrists and tilted the child’s head straight with tender movements, pulled the torn collar of the boy’s shirt higher to hide the savage slit carved out of his throat.

Karkat could clearly hear every word the god said through the silence that had fallen over the square. No one else dared to speak. A sweep ago, still disbelieving and ignorant, if witnessing this with blind eyes Karkat would have been forced to admit that the man kneeling in the dirt could only have been a god. The hairs at the nape of his neck were raised, his skin prickling. 

“Now,” Time said. “Let’s see if we can fix this.”

The woman was staring at the god with an expression just beginning to resemble desperate hope.

“Stand back,” Time said. The woman didn’t let go of her baby. “I promise I’ll take good care of him,” Dave vowed. “But you need to move away for your own safety.” His eyes were glowing brighter, shining for everyone to see, red magic just starting to leak into the air around him in sparks of color.

She nodded, stumbling back, her hands clasped over her heart. A pair of troll women embraced her with open arms and held her upright, also wiping away tears from their eyes. 

Dave took a deep breath and Karkat’s heart ached for him. He was holding the horse’s reigns so tightly that his claws dug into his hands. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know if it was even possible, but he watched the god of Time with unmoving eyes.

Dave stood like he had the weight of the world on his back. He held out his hand and a gleaming sword fell into his open palm. The crowd of watching townspeople gasped and moved back as Dave’s clothes shifted into the bright reds of his godtier outfit. The fabric flowed like water, weaving itself into existence. His cape fluttered behind him and draped itself across his narrow shoulders. The godsign for Time on his chest erased any doubt in the watcher’s minds. The Knight was here and he was fucking pissed.

The god set his sword point-down in the dirt and began to slowly scratch out a circle around the rustblood. The slight noise of the sword dragging through the soil was the only sound there was as Dave devoted himself to carefully carving out a barrier. It was just a circle in the dirt until the ends connected and magic jumped into being. Red light pulsed and flashed, constellations and runes for Time twisting through the air as static crackled and popped. Time marked out four points with streaks of magic, painting them into the air with his fingertips at the four cardinal points of the circle, and with a ripple the circle was closed.

The smoky sunlight that filtered down through the plume of smoke took on a reddish hue as high overhead the massive godsign for Time blanketed the entire town. It was so huge and brilliant that it must have been visible for miles as Dave created a circle that Karkat recognized as a binding ward, the same that the god had easily broken in the cave the day they’d met. Dave had bound himself inside the circle and the intent behind it was clear. This circle felt different; it had a god’s power behind it. This was a circle that could not be broken.

The wind picked up. It howled through the ruined foundations of the burned town with a wail. The people cowered and shrieked with fear and elation as inside the circle Time again knelt by the child, the sword gone from his hands as he placed them tenderly over the boy and bowed his head.

Inside of the circle, reality fragmented. That was really all Karkat had to say on the matter. 

In truth he couldn’t see much through the swirling chaos of magic and red lightning that illuminated the inside of the circle. All he could see was the blazing red fire of Dave’s eyes, the ragged outline of wings rising behind him.

Karkat could feel more than see the blood that was drawn up out of the ground. The troll didn’t know why but he could feel each drop as it ran backwards back into the wriggler’s body as Dave dialed back the clock, reversing time within the circle to a point from before the knife had done its foul deed, and then the Knight of Time blended the self-contained alternate reality with the rest of the timeline.

At the other side of the square there were other screams as a mob of highbloods appeared, drawn in by the magic and the commotion and the massive sigil still floating over the town. The sound of hooves and the fearful whinnies of horses rang out over the howl of the wind. Karkat narrowed his eyes, straining to see through the dust and the smoke to where the mounted cultists were. The horses snorted, nostrils flared and pink. His mare half-reared, pawing at the air with her ears pinned back.

With a snap of electricity that tasted of the decay of entropy, the circle began to fall still. The dust settled and the lightning stopped its pyroclastic attack. Dave still stood in the dust of the circle, his marble-white skin translucent and glowing, fire bleeding out into the air around him. The god had never looked so inhuman, not even when newly bound. The god of Time looked down at his work.

The boy’s wounds were closed. The blood had vanished from his skin and clothes and hair. His chipped horn was straight and curling again. The biggest change was that his eyes were open, his chest heaving with the remembered pain of wounds that never existed. 

Dave immediately dropped to his feet, the circle dying around him with a ring of fire that consumed itself right out of existence. Overhead the sun returned as the godsign of Time dissolved.

“You’re alright, you’re okay. Steady.” Karkat heard Dave reassuring the wriggler. “Just breathe, you’re going to be fine. You’re safe now.” The god helped the child sit up with hands that showed thin finger bones glowing red through his translucent skin. Everything about the god was still red and glowing.

The troll child gasped, scrabbling backward, his mouth open in fear. He didn’t get very far, his legs shaking too badly for movement. Dave’s frown tightened, but he still knelt with a patient acceptance as the wriggler tried to run from him. Dave reached out and took up the dagger lying abandoned to the side and flipped it over, offering it hilt-first to the boy.

The wriggler’s eyes were wide as he stared wordlessly at the dagger, rust-colored eyes alight with the rush of memories the blade accompanied.

“You did good with this,” Dave told the child. “You did your very best to help protect your home and your family. But next time, maybe leave the fighting to the adults. Promise?”

The child nodded mutely as he wrapped his fingers around the hilt, and the spell broke. “Silais!” His mother yelled, streaking forward to grab her son, tears streaming down her face as she pulled the troll into her arms and sobbed against him. Her hands pated down every inch of him she could reach, as if checking to make sure that the horrible wounds were gone and that her child was alright and breathing. 

Karkat stared in shock at the scene. The Knight of Time just resurrected someone from the dead in full-view of nearly a hundred witnesses. The world was never going to forget this day. This, this was how history happened.

Dave stepped away to let them have their moment, and the cultists across the square caught his eye. The light still trapped inside him flared brighter, more volatile as his eyes seethed. “You,” he said, and Karkat almost didn’t recognize the first few trolls without the black hoods and cloaks, but the highbloods in front were the same dozen than had kidnapped him. He’d spent long enough while tied-up staring at their covered faces to recognize them and the profile of their horns. Fuck.

The god’s quiet voice was eternal. “I let you live… and this is what you chose to do?” The god stood in the middle of the destroyed town, amid burning buildings and the scent of blood and smoke. His eyes flashed again, full of the threat of violence, and nearly half of the cultists turned to flee. Those on horseback kicked and whipped their horses into a gallop, eager to leave behind their comrades in their rush to leave. But most shrieked and lunged forward, weapons raised and fangs bloody as they charged. The thunder of their horse’s hooves pounded out a bloody drumbeat over their shrieking. 

The wind changed, blowing a dark plume of smoke over the mob of charging trolls and the god of Time met them in the middle of the smoke and the dust. One by one, the cultists charged into the plume of smoke, riding straight for the defenseless townspeople. Not one emerged again. There were no screams, no flashes of light. Unlike the attack in the church yesterday, this was completely silent. 

None of them had a chance.

The entire assault lasted only a few heartbeats, and then the highbloods vanished into the smoke. It didn’t make sense. How did Time singlehandedly stop an entire charging army of highbloods? What was happening inside the smokescreen? A few arrows were sporadically being launched from within the smoke from desperate archers and the bolts screamed overhead or buried themselves harmlessly into the dirt. One or two streaked over the smoke, longshots meant solely to hurt civilians, but diving crows intercepted the arrows with glee and knocked them off course. 

Karkat still couldn’t see what was going on, but he did see the arrow launch itself out of the smoke. He reared back from the bolt out of instinct, but while close it wasn’t coming for him. There was a meaty thunk and a horse screamed directly into Karkat’s ear. 

Horses scream like dying men and tearing metal. His ear was ringing and Karkat blinked back stars. It was an awful, gut-wrenching sound. His mare violently pulled free of his hands as Dave’s horse fell to it’s knees, eyes rolling white in it’s graying face as it dropped. Karkat spun around, instantly finding where the arrow was sunk at least five inches deep into the horse’s chest, right at the junction of neck and shoulder and close enough to the jugular to make his blood run cold.

“No, nononononono,” he stuttered, reaching helplessly for the arrow, his hand trembling before he let it drop back to his side in a fist. He couldn’t fix this. The horse screamed again, his legs kicked uselessly. His dark hooves ripped furrows in the ground. 

At the sound the Knight of Time stepped out of the smoke with a sword in each hand. He was covered in what was not a small amount of brightly colored blood ranging in shade from cerulean to the highest of violets. The swords vanished as he stepped forward, stumbling, and for a brief panicked moment Karkat was sure he was wounded.

The god straightened as he left behind what was surely a massacre. The smoke still hid the cultists but riderless horses were freely wandering out of the smog with their heads held high and saddles bare.

The god was also at his side far too fast, stepping through the air like his feet didn’t touch the ground.

“Holy fuck,” Time said, groaning. “Did those motherfuckers shoot my fucking horse?”

The god was shaking, nearly coming apart at the seams. His eyes were liquid fire and even his pale hair was matted down with blood that wasn’t his own. Just being this close to him was like standing in front of a bonfire. Waves of magic were pouring off of the god and Karkat’s eyes felt singed just from looking. He blinked, eyes watering, as Time continued to stutter. 

“No, I can fix this,” the god said, every bone in the length of his pale neck visible. “I can, I can… fuck.” Time looked down at himself, at the bones that shone through his flesh and the cracks splitting his skin, sparks of lightning trailing from his fingertips. “I can hold this form, I can,” he said, swearing too fast for Karkat to catch the words. “I…” Time looked at his hands, at the blood coating them, and his gaze fractured. Karkat saw the exact instant it happened, and the Knight of Time just numbly stared at the blood on his hands.

Karkat swiftly pulled the god into a tight embrace, grabbing him by the front of his stained shirt and yanking him forward, praying his hands wouldn’t blister from the heat. It was like hugging an erupting volcano and he kept his pained eyes firmly screwed closed. He hugged the god tightly, because this was still Dave, still the person who laughed when his horse dribbled spit into his ear and walked across bridge railings with his arms outspread. The Knight was still the same person that had cradled Karkat in his arms and held him close and made him feel like he belonged. The god was still the Dave that he loved.

Fuck everyone that was watching. This was only about them.

“It’s okay,” Karkat whispered firmly, his face smashed up against Dave’s shoulder. “Let me help this time. I can take care of this,” he promised, his hands tracing circles against the god’s back. His eyes were still tightly closed, but he felt the subtle shift as the fire raging inside the god began to settle as Dave cautiously leaned into the embrace, still shaking like a leaf. 

Karkat didn’t need fancy signs or words to call of the Maid of Life. He’d graduated to a higher level of clerical skill the instant he fully accepted Dave’s impossible words as the truth. 'Jane,' he prayed silently. 'Please. A lot of people down here need your help right now.'

The answer came to him immediately like a breath of fresh air. 'Of course', the words rang in his mind, 'all you ever need to do is ask.'

Karkat opened his eyes as he felt the Maid wreathe around him. Jane passed lightly over him, and as she passed all of his minor aches and pains vanished. A warm glow filled him. Even the sting of his freshly scalded eyes was soothed. 

The Maid of Life took form in a blur of green and gray and she surveyed the scattered townspeople, most of them wounded, with a quick and practiced eye. “Let’s get to work then, shall we?” she asked, dipping down to retrieve the arrow from the horse’s flesh with skillful fingers.

Karkat kept his tight hold on Dave until the horse picked up his head. Jane healed the fatal wound without a second thought. The horse was quick to get his feet back under him and stand, shaking out his mane and body like a dog. Jane instantly moved on to the townspeople, healing cuts and broken bones as she moved through them. Grass sprouted beneath her feet, the fresh green life claiming its place through the ash and the dust. The people flocked to her with awe and respect- the Maid of Life was here to help.

Dave didn’t move until his horse walked over and nudged him with its nose, then the god sagged into Karkat, still shuddering, but the tremors slowly calming as the volatile stress left him. The red glow faded and Karkat embraced him until the god wore his human skin like it fit again.

“Oh god,” Dave said at last, “Fuck, Karkat.”

“It’s alright,” Karkat promised. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

“I, I’m sorry, I,” Dave said, gasping.

“It’s alright,” Karkat repeated firmly. “I can take care of things from here.”

“No,” Dave said, straining to turn around. Karkat caught his face and stopped him. “The bodies…” the god trailed off, nearly crying. 

“No,” Karkat said, growling as he help Dave’s face cupped between his palms. “Don’t look. I’ve got this.”

“You don’t look,” Dave said, and the shaking increased again. “Oh god Karkat, please don’t fucking look.”

The broken tone of Dave’s voice cut him to the core and left a wound that Jane couldn’t touch. “I won’t,” Karkat promised, already rifling through his head for what to do next. 'Feferi,' he prayed. 'Would you mind lending Jane a hand?'

The answer came with a light teasing. 'I thought you would never ask.' The Witch joined in, and the people flocked to the two gods of Life while avoiding the entire area around the god of Time.

What else? Heal the people, save Dave’s horse, what came next? Karkat gritted his teeth as he marshalled the next god into action. 'Aradia?' He prayed, 'I’m not really sure if this is even a thing up your fucking alley, but could you take care of a few corpses for me?'

'I’m way ahead of you,' the other Time god said solemnly. 'They lost the rights to their lives long ago.'

Okay, he was on a roll. What else was there? The town had been destroyed, but he didn’t think there was a god for rebuilding buildings. But there were still fires burning and that he knew how to deal with. 'John?' He asked, and Breath’s reply was swift.

'Don’t worry, I can handle the fires,' the Heir said, 'but that’s not all I can do.'

There was something slightly wicked in the god’s voice as he left to extinguish the still-burning flames.

There was the whistle of a cane moving through the air, and when it unexpectedly slammed down beside Karkat the troll jumped. Terezi bared her teeth at him in a grin, her hood pulled up over her head.

“Alright coolkid,” she ordered, raising the cane again. “March! Up up up!” She punctuated every word with another clack from her cane, and Dave was finally stirred into movement as she heckled him across the now-bustling square. The town salon was ruined, but the horse trough out front was untouched and Terezi came to a halt in front of the water trough. “Now let’s get you two cleaned up.”

That was all the warning he received before the entire trough was lifted into the air by a flash of blue, and then John upended the entire contents of the trough over both him and Dave. An instant later Karkat received a blast of air to the face as the god dried them off. He felt like a drowned cat caught in a tornado.

“Motherfuckers,” Karkat sputtered, seething and ready to fight until he saw Dave relax and finally fucking breathe once the blood was off of him.

“Better?” Terezi asked.

“Better,” Dave confirmed. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” she laughed, showing more teeth than normal. “This was all Karkat.”

Dave wordlessly raised a single eyebrow at the troll.

“I did not plan on us getting dunked,” Karkat defended himself crossly as he picked at the still-damp neck of his shirt, but he couldn’t be truly upset as long as Dave was better.

Terezi lowered her hood and gave him an almost kind smile. “How’s your thinkpan treating you?” she asked. “Yesterday your mind was set on eviscerating itself; glad to see that you’re not clawing at your own eyestalks with madness.”

Karkat groaned and scowled at her, but there was no bite behind it. “Thanks for that, I guess,” he admitted. “Was it that bad?”

“Not yet,” Terezi said. “But you would have gone hiveshit, just so you know.”

He nodded, defeated. The legends were full of mortals who went mad after learning something they shouldn’t have. Was this his fate? To know that his lost memories were so close but still impossible to grasp? He still didn’t even remember meeting Terezi yesterday, or anything about the dream. 

The idea of never truly regaining his memory made his blood run cold, but the troll shoved the thought to the side. He couldn’t afford to be selfish. This wasn’t about him- this was about Dave and the town’s wellbeing. His memory didn’t even factor into the equation.

Dave’s horse had followed them over to the water trough and was intently nibbling at the god’s ear with its fleshy lips. Dave ignored the horse’s antics, completely straight-faced, until the horse grabbed a mouthful of white hair and yanked Dave’s head sideways, tossing its chin and nickering as it begged for attention. 

“Fine,” Dave broke, rubbing at where the horse had managed to steal a few strands of hair from his scalp. “Okay, I admit it. I’m glad you’re alright,” he said, and he hugged the old plowhorse around the neck. “What the fuck? I don’t even like horses???”

“I think that you do,” Terezi said, grinning. “Careful Time, I can see your Texas showing.”

“Oh shove off,” Dave said, scratching at the horse’s ears and trying to hide his pleased smile. “You don’t even really know what Texas is.”

Karkat let them bicker back and forth. He was relieved that there was someone else here that could help talk Dave out of his own head. So that was, like, six gods in the town? That number was bordering the record for the most gods in one place as a reaction to an event, but was it enough to really help?

Karkat looked around as he carefully considered his options. His priority was making sure that Dave was okay and that the townspeople were safe, but the hamlet was still a charred waste. The people were homeless, the crops burned, the animals run off or wounded. They might have saved the civilians from the highblood army, but there was still so much to do.

“I have a plan,” Karkat announced.

Both of the gods looked at him.

“This will be good,” Terezi said, leaning closer. “Your plans always are.”

“Remember what Rose said about making yourselves more visible to the land?” Karkat started, purposefully ignoring that last part. Focus. “And about helping people more? Here’s a bright and shining opportunity to do exactly that. Let’s rebuild the town.”

Karkat wasn’t a god. He could stop a charging army or heal the people like Dave or Jane, but maybe he could do this. Knight of Blood bullshit aside; that wasn’t him, not yet, not in this life at least, but maybe this was how he could help others. This was how he could be a Knight. Wasn’t this all just training anyway? How better to learn then by doing?

And Jegus if he didn’t do something to help these people he was going to crawl out of his skin. The urge to help was an itch he couldn’t scratch. 

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking,” Dave said, grinning with faint pride. “Hell yes. That’s how it’s fucking done Karkat.”

“I’m talking about everything,” Karkat said, waving his hands to the shattered front of the saloon. “New gardens, new crops, fixed houses. What might take these people months of struggle to rebuild alone would take us... Okay, I don’t actually know how fucking long it would take, but it can’t be longer than a few days.”

Terezi was grinning that insane grin she wore again, her blank eyes gleaming. “I’m in,” she said at once.

“Me too,” Dave said. “I’m fairy sure that everyone else will be glad to help as well.”

The Heir flashed back overhead, trailing the long blue of his hood behind him as he lit beside them on the ground, his blue eyes ethereal and depthless. “That’s the last of the fires,” John said. “I even cleared out the smoke.”'

“Thank you,” Karkat said, nodding to the god. “But there’s something else I need.”

John quirked up an eyebrow, hovering in anticipation. 

“We need wood,” Karkat said, deadpan. “A real fuckton of lumber. Nails too.”

“And the townspeople,” Terezi said, wringing her hands together. “Breath,” she said, careful not to use John’s name, not when they might be overheard by strangers. “Rally the forces. Inspire the townspeople to help. We’re rebuilding this town.”

“I’ll make sure to get everyone else’s asses over here,” Dave said, “All of us. We’re going to make this town strong again and spread a little hope and goodcheer while doing it. Fuck, let’s make it a holiday or some shit. It’s been a few thousand years since we’ve built a town from the ground up but I know we all have the method down.”

John was practically vibrating with excitement. “Okay, I can do that,” he said, already lifting up higher. “I can gather the people. This is new but I know it’s a good idea!” the Heir streaked away in a breath of wind.  
Terezi cracked her knuckles. “I’ll start getting the others,” she offered, nudging Dave with the butt of her cane. “Your idiot ass is still bound, remember? Stay with Karkat and get started, because this town is really small to try and hold all of us at once.”

“Of course,” Dave said, shrugging. “Hey, Karkat, Mind, you know what this means right?”

The troll and the god of Mind looked at him, Terezi already rolling her eyes as her grin widened.

“Let’s throw a fucking party,” the Knight of Time said, his eyes glowing.

And that was when the last of the weight fell off Karkat’s shoulders, and he smiled. They could do this.

“Let’s throw a fucking party,” Karkat agreed, and then they got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I forgiven yet? ()-()
> 
> Check one please;  
> [yes]  
> [No]  
> [IDK it hurts too much still]
> 
> But seriously, it's almost time to wrap this story up. The plot is coming to a close. The stage is set, the curtains poised. Ready or not, here comes...


	17. With the End of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals week is here and the semester is over. I cannot believe that I started this fic at the beginning of this semester and that it's taken my this long to reach the end. This is the fic that stuck out this part of my school life with me, and for that alone I'm sad to see it go.
> 
> Here it is folks- at long last.
> 
> :)
> 
> -TrypticCognizen (AcrylicMist)

Unsurprisingly, rebuilding the town was easy with the help of all nineteen gods. The thing that surprised Karkat is that they managed to do it all before the sun set.

John and Jade teleported in cut timbers from gods know where and Roxy multiplied the supplies until there was enough lumber to refurbish all of the burnt buildings. The new buildings quickly were reassembled from the ground up under the guidance of the homeowners and shopkeepers who had lost everything to the blazes. 

It was stunning to watch. The best part was that the gods didn’t just replace what had been destroyed- they improved it.

Jane and Feferi regrew vegetable gardens and burned fields in a matter of minutes and the vines hung heavy with an overabundance of fruits. Karkat passed a tomato patch with tomatoes bigger around than his clenched fist as the healthy plants matured before his awestruck eyes. Tavros gathered all of the town’s livestock that had been run off or injured, and everything was returned to its rightful place looking like they were fresh from the famed judging rings of Canton. Terezi was overseeing the keepment of the captured cultist’s horses among the townspeople as she divvied up the new livestock accordingly.

The fresh grass under Karkat’s feet was a vivid green. He ducked under Equius as the troll walked past, carrying a mountain of cut timbers on one shoulder like the wood was feather-light. Rose was passing out books to the town’s only scholar, who had lost all of his texts and was engaged in deep conversation with the Seer as she piled more and more books onto his cart. Karkat nodded to her as he walked past and Rose smiled back with a blinding grin from beneath her hood.

Even the gods that weren’t as helpful with the building aspects of the recovery were influencing the town for the better. Sollux was busy installing a row of beehives behind the town and making sure that his chosen beekeepers knew how to take care of them. Eridan was purifying and refilling the town’s wells. Nepeta was… babysitting? Yeah, that’s what it looked like as Karkat jumped to the side to avoid the mob of children and wrigglers that were chasing after the god of Heart and hunt, shrieking with laughter as the god nimbly avoided their grasping hands.

Karkat tried to make himself useful in a town that had turned into an insane and closely organized god-inspired utter symphonic masterpiece of cooperative healing. The rebuilding ran as smoothly as an unburdened stream thanks to Dirk’s careful and insightful planning. Karkat couldn’t remember a time from anywhere in history where the gods had worked side by side with mortals like this, at least not since the beginning. He wandered around in awe, past milkers scratching their heads in glee at how much milk their cows were giving, past the blacksmith and the tanner, both of their businesses overflowing with new work orders and the rhythmic fall of hammers.

The only god he didn’t see was Dave. Karkat knew the god of Time was lurking around somewhere, and he tried to excuse his aimless wandering to anything except a misplaced hope of blundering into where Dave was hiding. He turned another corner, intent on finding Dave.

Instead he found his brother. Dirk looked the same as he had in the Temple, ragged shadows and all. The only difference was that the set of his shoulder maybe wasn’t as cold as before, and abruptly Karkat wasn’t afraid of the god. It may have only been a little over two days since they’d met, but Karkat wasn’t the same troll that the god had terrorized in an empty learningblock. Staring his quest bed in the face had that kind of effect on him. Now Karkat was immune to god bullshit and fuck any god that thought otherwise.

“You look better,” Dirk said flatly, and now Karkat was pissed off. He moved from wary but respectful directly into a harsh rage.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Karkat snapped, advancing on where the god of Heart was standing.

“I think that we need to have a talk,” Dirk continued as if the troll hadn’t spoken.

Karkat stopped himself from actually trying to grab the god by the front of his pink shirt, just to shake some holes into the fabric with his claws. As much as the idea of inflicting his small and not-harmful vengeance might have made him feel better, carrying through with the fantasy was a Bad Idea. Plus, he wasn’t quite that petty. “Yeah,” Karkat said, clenching his fists. “I think that we do.”

“Firstly,” Dirk began. “I’d like to say that I am a fucking moron.”

Karkat barked out a harsh laugh. “You think?”

“Yeah,” Dirk said, and the god at least had the decency to look ashamed. “I shouldn’t have said the things that I did, and not in the way that I did either.”

“Is this apology coming from Roxy or from you?” Karkat asked. The troll knew Dirk’s twin must have skinned him alive if he was actually going to admit that he’d fucked up. 

“Me,” Dirk said. “And it’s not an apology.”

“What?” Karkat asked, sharply.

“I won’t take it back,” Dirk said, his face still coldly blank. “I can’t, because it was the truth. You are made of different splinters and I knew that someone had to of done this for a reason. My concerns were valid ones, but my suspicions have recently been proved incorrect thanks to Terezi and also yourself.”

“Can’t you just fuck off already?” Karkat said, exasperated. “I get it okay? You don’t like me, and I’m fucking sick of everybody gloating about how I’m apparently dumb as shit without my memories. Those tantalizing tidbits of information that you’re holding over my head- keep them to your own fucking self. I’m fucking done.”

Dirk was fucking smiling, the motherfucker. “Don’t you want to know what I’m talking about?”

Gods the Prince of Heart did look a little like Dave with that shit-eating grin on his face. It just pissed the troll off more. “No,” Karkat growled. “If it’s important I’ll get it from Dave later, so fuck off.” 

“That’s actually why I’m here,” Dirk said, leaning against the wall now. “Not to apologize, but to admit that I treated you badly. It won’t happen again.” Dirk’s shadows shifted, each one switching places with another.

Karkat couldn’t help the evasiveness carved into the line of his shoulders. He was getting worried about Dave, and every second he spent exchanging bullshit with Dirk was time not spent looking for Dave.

“I’m here to tell you that Dave isn’t here,” Dirk said, like he could read Karkat’s true intentions. “He and Aradia are off doing Time shit to make sure that he didn’t just fuck up the timeline. Goddamn,” Dirk grinned. “What he just did- that’s fucking poetic. It’s a loophole no one else thought was possible and only he would have been insane enough to try. He just fucked up the balance of the universe in a really big way.”

“What do you mean?” Karkat couldn’t help but ask. He was worried about Dave. He couldn’t help it. 

Dirk shrugged again. “We have to keep things in balance, which is really fucking hard. Time and Space are both so OP that they at least balance out each other, plus there’s two each of them so the power is more spread out. But the system itself is always off-balance because there’s no counterpoint for Breath. The odd numbers don’t match like they should. That’s why we made laws. That’s why we have to keep them. Dave just stumbled into a trump card, and if he and Aradia can make it work again then we might have a way to do a lot of good.”

“But he’s okay right?” Karkat asked, concerned. He had never gotten any threatening vibes from the other god of Time, but she did carry a reputation for… well, dragging people into the afterlife if they pissed her off. 

“Yeah,” Dirk promised. “He’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Oh,” Karkat said, glancing down at the ground. Dinner? The sun was almost setting. The alleyway was already growing rosy with the pink tones of the sunset. “Thanks then, I guess. For letting me know.”

It was easy for the troll to sound genuine when it was true. He wasn’t really mad at the god of Heart, and Karkat couldn’t blame Dirk for being protective. The troll would probably have something similar if their places had been switched, even though he would never have been such an ass about it. 

“It’s nothing,” Dirk said, and he was also contrite. “You know, we never really got the chance to know each other. I’m one of the four people that didn’t get a chance to get to know you well before the shit went down.”

“Really?” Karkat asked, intrigued. One day he was going to sit down and ask Dave for the whole story, gods and frogs and games and all, but not today. 

“It’s true,” Dirk said. “That’s why I hope that I didn’t fuck things up with you already. I hope that we can find a way to get along, for Dave if nothing else. Hell, I’ll even apologize.”

“It’s fine,” Karkat said, waving away Dirk’s offer. “You were out of line but I get it. I care about Dave too, you know.”

“I know you do,” Dirk said. “It’s written across your heart like a brand.”

Karkat couldn’t stop the rush of blood that crept up his cheeks at that, but the mental image did make a warm feeling burn through him. He liked the idea of loving Dave so much that it left a visible mark on his heart, even though he didn’t like the idea of Dirk being able to see it for himself. That part sucked ass.

“Thank you then,” Karkat offered. “You might not be as much of an asshole as I first thought.”

“I probably still am, but I’ll take it,” Dirk said. “I’ve got to go. There’s a lot I still need to get done before the finale.”

Dirk dissolved into the wall he had been leaning against before Karkat could pester him about what the fuck he meant by that. Karkat narrowed his eyes at the bricks where Dirk had vanished. Asshole. 

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. The sun set at a snail’s pace, creeping towards the horizon by minuscule amounts as the afternoon gave way to twilight.

Karkat met up with everyone in the center of town. Every person and god, minus Dave, was gathered there among the clustered walls of the newly repaired buildings.

The town square had been left oddly bare, and a hush fell over the crowd as several of the gods stepped into the empty ash of the dirt lot. Rose was dressed in her shimmering orange robes, and she linked hands with Jade and Roxy, who pulled in Feferi so that the four gods stood in a ring.

John spoke, his voice echoing down across the town on a breath of wind. “We have one last gift to give before we can get this party started.”

Light flashed between the four god’s linked hands, and the crowd murmured as from the center of their circle rose up a sprig of green. Magic twined around the seedling, which grew and grew and aged years in a span of seconds with the careful prompting of the gods of Space, Void, Light, and Life.

The tree grew sprawling. It’s branches arched over the town’s center, blossoming with leaves and flowers of all colors as its roots spread out in a spiral from the center. The trunk was spiraling through different textures and shades of bark as the branches twisted into elegant patterns. When it was over the massive tree spanned the entire length of the square, forming a protective canopy over the open center of the town. Roots fell from a few of the branches and dipped down to kiss the soil in a way that was unfamiliar to the troll, and almost before the tree stopped its rapid growth the crowd was roaring it’s applause.

Karkat inspected the roof of leaves overhead, squinting at the branch nearest to him. The branch was from a cherry tree, and both blossoms and mature fruits hung from its stems. Further up the branch the tree was sprouting leaves the distinctive shape of a river oak, and the bark there was clustered with fat acorns.

He looked around, taking in the full view of the tree in all its splendor. He saw pine needles, figs, strange orange fruits as large as his head, the spiked fronds of ocean palm trees, all of the mismatching greenery growing in perfect harmony with itself. The trunk towered over the town, looming protectively across the square as Karkat reached out to feel the smoothness of the branch. He felt the crackle of magic beneath his claws.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, and Roxy broke the stunned silence of the crowd with a bubbling laugh.

“It’s okay guys,” the god of Void promised. “This is a good tree.” She reached out and took a bright red apple that was dangling overhead and twirled it in her palm. “See?”

“One last thing,” Eridan said, striding forward with purpose. His horns were bright against his dark hair, and the soft gold of his robes shone with white light. Beneath his hand the ground flowed up into a smooth basin of silver stone, each of the godsigns inscribed around the lip of the vessel as cool water filled the basin. “There,” the god of Hope said, self-satisfied and humble all at once.

With a snap, the atmosphere gave way to the glow of peace. Karkat stood under the protective boughs of the great tree as Rose hung up lights that were like flowers made of fire to illuminate the square. Roxy had helped supply all of the food beforehand, and now the party could begin.

He kept a sharp eye out for white hair and red clothes, but the closest he got to finding Dave was being laughed at by a crow. He flicked the bird off and scowled, but the sight of the darkly feathered creature was reassuring. Was Dave watching him?

It was hard not to get caught up in the throes of the celebration. Food was passed around generously, people laughed and danced to the drums and flutes scraped together by a few of the more talented musicians the town could offer. The darkness of the night was moved away by the warm glow of the lights and the energy that still wound through the air from the otherworldly force that the gods were unconsciously giving off. 

He gave into it and submitted with good grace. Dave would find him when it was time. He might as well enjoy himself in the meantime. The townspeople kept a respectful distance from the gods, and as badly as he wanted to go over to a few of them he also kept his distance. The mutant troll was trying to blend in after the earlier fiasco with Dave, but everywhere he went he still felt the weight of eyes following him. Mostly it was curiosity that lingered in their gazes, a questioning glance, a sideways knowing nod, but there was a fair share of simple confusion as well. 

‘Who are you?’ Their faces seemed to ask. ‘How did you orchestrate this miracle? Why were you at Time’s side, little mutantblood?’

For once the scrutiny didn’t make him uncomfortable. Karkat knew who he fucking was. 

But the troll couldn’t truly enjoy himself at the celebration, not with his worry for Dave crowding up his throat to sour the taste of the sugary bread the baker was rolling out in carts stacked high with goods. There was music and lights and dancing, but even with all of the magic in the air he felt empty.

There was a cheer from the hastily erected stage, and Gamzee, yes, Gamzee, that was the Bard’s name, called the crowd to silence with a single fanged grin from beneath the carved skull-mask that sat heavily over his face, the array of horns that crowned his head topped off by the spiraling set that Karkat recognized in a deep part of his thinkpan as the god’s real pair. 

“Alright,” Rage said, smiling with an easy-going grin at odds with the mask over his face. “Now’s time for the real entertainment to step the fuck up. Knight, my brother, you fucking ready?”

Dave stepped onto the small stage, waving away the Bard’s chuckles as Karkat’s heart thudded loudly in his chest. “Sorry kids and wrigglers” Dave apologized to the crowd, his cape fluttering behind him and those strange black lenses perched firmly across the bridge of his thin nose. With his hood up and eyes covered, the god of Time stood identical to the dozens of statues of him that were littered throughout the kingdom, but no, he didn’t look like the Dave that Karkat knew as he reassured the crowd. “Rage has a foul-mouth and none of us can control whatever spews out of him.”

Nervous laughter from the crowd as Gamzee lazily saluted the Knight his middle finger.

“But he is right,” Dave continued as Karkat started to push his way through the crowd to get closer. “Let’s get some real music started.”

Red disks jumped into existence under his hands, light flashing beneath the starry sky. John booed loudly from the side. “Rule-breaker!”

Dave ignored the other god. “We’ve broken enough rules tonight that one more can’t hurt,” he said, winking theatrically at the crowd. “Technically this kind of music hasn’t been invented yet, but I’m sure for tonight we can make some exceptions.”

Gamzee shrugged. “I’m all for it,” he said, amiably eyeing the suddenly nervous musicians that had been playing. “Let’s give these good motherfuckers a break. It’s their carnival too.”

“That’ all I need to hear,” Dave said, turning to the strange tables that he fit his hands onto. “Light, Space, show them how it’s done.”

Music filled the air, a fast-paced beat from invisible drums and chords from instruments that Karkat couldn’t recognize. It was… weird, but good weird. The music had a flow to it that made it easy to follow as Kanaya and Rose took over the dance floor. Kanaya’s skin was glowing white to match the sign at her chest, resplendent in a dress of black fabric that looked like it had been woven from stars. Rose was shining just as bright as they danced, each smiling. Rose laughed as Kanaya dipped her in an elegant bow to the sway of the music.

The music was astonishingly well put together. An entire symphony was playing from beneath Dave’s fingers, and it was only growing more intricate as the minutes passed. Karkat watched him play, and on stage the god forgot the rest of the world around him. He was entirely focused on the beat, adjusting whatever number of small dials and levers were controlling the music he was creating, his chin dipping slightly as he kept the pace with an effortless grace that took Karkat’s breath away. It was beautiful.

The effect was instantaneous as the dancers took to the floor, the barriers between gods and mortals blurring in the sea of swaying bodies. Karkat stood alone in the throng of people, still valiantly trying to reach the platform as the space between him and Dave filled with people.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder. Karkat spun around at the sudden touch with a growl, already pissed-off and looking for an outlet for his frustrations.

Dave smiled at him slowly, not the same Dave that was on stage. This Dave was wearing the same bland travelling clothes and black boots that he’d been wearing for the past week. His hair was white as cornsilk against his alabaster skin, and those goddamned shades were covering his eyes again.

Relief flooded through Karkat’s nerve-strained limbs like cool water. “There you are,” he said, already reaching for the god as Dave offered him a hand as behind them the second Dave on stage leaned closer to the crowd.

“Alright now,” the time duplicate said, his hands slowing as the music grew softer, fuller, more gentle. “Let’s slow things down.”

The Dave standing in front of him grinned as Karkat took his outstretched hand. “May I have this dance?”

Karkat reached out and cupped Dave’s face in his palm, the edge of his claws curling around the black frames that hid his eyes from the watching crowd. Dave reached up and held the troll’s hand in place against his face, his lips curling into a smile when Karkat’s fingertips traced across them. He obliged when Karkat tugged at the shades and with one hand Dave followed Karkat’s fingers and plucked the shades from his face and folded them out of existence without breaking eye-contact. 

“There,” Karkat whispered, a matching smile breaking across his face. “Much better.”

Dave’s red eyes were gleaming as Karkat tightened his grip and settled himself in place as they swayed to the music. “Where have you been?” Karkat asked, his skin alight with the electric tingle of the god’s gentle touch.

“I was taking care of some things with Aradia,” Dave answered. “It was nothing major, just discussing some newly-probable plans to make a few things easier for people.”

“Is that what you were doing?” Karkat teased knowingly. “Thinking up new ways to save the world?”

“Are you surprised?” Dave asked. “We’re barley holding back Rose from handing over a printing press to the closest bookbinder. The world is just starting to figure out clockwork without actually making a clock yet, and yet she wants to gift the world with a fucking printing press.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Karkat said, and they sidestepped a different couple so caught up in dancing that they didn’t notice the troll and the clearly not-human dancing nearby. “How’s that plan to fix everything going?”

Dave grunted and leaned closer, his breath whispering across the troll’s ear. “I think it’s going rather well,” he said, expertly fumbling through the steps of a dance he was clearly unfamiliar with in a way that had Karkat nearly laughing, especially when every misstep brought them closer together. “Everything is better just because you’re here.”

“Ha,” Karkat huffed, secretly pleased as a warm glow filled him. “I think that we did good here,” he said, holding the warmth of Dave closer to his chest beneath the sheltering boughs of the every-tree he’d had a hand in creating. “Is it always like this?”

“Not always,” Dave admitted, his eyes earnest. “But it can be.”

There was a question buried in the god’s words, and Karkat let his head fall onto Dave’s chest as the god cradled him closer like he was made of glass. “What happens next?” He asked, his eyes drifting closed as he heard Dave’s heart beating under his cheek. 

“Anything you want,” Dave said, and Karkat felt him rest his chin between his short horns, a purr rumbling through his chest. “I’m serious- Anything. We can take as long as you want or we can be in Canton by tomorrow.”

As much as the words tightened his chest so that the very idea of seeing his quest bed again constricted his lungs in all the worst ways, he still felt at peace. “What about that war across the sea?” He said, his eyes still closed.

“Yeah,” Dave said, and they were mostly just holding each other now as the music and the crowds fell away into the blur of the background. “That one we might need your help with. The carpacians have always followed some prophecy thing left over from WV. He did always say that you would be back one day. I just never believed him.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Dave said, and Karkat tilted his head up to look at him. “I never thought that I would get this,” he said softly. “I never believed that we would get our happy ending.”

Overcome with emotion, Karkat leaned upwards and pressed his lips against Dave’s, knotting his hands into the soft pale hair at the back of the god’s neck as he chased away any doubts that might have been lingering in Dave’s mind. “Do you believe it now?” He asked when he had to surface for air, panting slightly. 

Dave let out a quiet laugh that was better than any music in the world. “I do,” he said, and he leaned back in for another kiss. “After all,” he said, just as teasing as Karkat had been before. “We have four thousand years of kisses to make up for.”

“Fucker,” Karkat said, but he happily started to recover each of the tender moments that they’d lost, content to take them each back one at a time. When faced with the true depth of the eternity with Dave that lay stretched out before him, those four thousand years didn’t seem too long. 

…

 

Above the clouds, above the sky and in a place that existed beyond the reach of the gods, Calliope sighed and turned her face away.

The fractured Muse of Space was in fragments, nothing but a collection of whispers and broken memories. All of the power she’d spent the last four millennium gathering had gone into binding together a different fractured soul, one that would in turn bind her back together and heal the wound that had been wrecked all those years ago. 

Calliope was a watcher now, nothing more, nothing less. Just like before, when she’d spent her days watching her players through books and venistrated screens. She drifted, and she waited, and she knew that it would not be long until she could rejoin her friends.

Calliope sighed again, but with hope this time. Her job was done. Karkat would do the rest and fulfill his part in their grand bargain, because making gates into new universes was not easy when the price had to be paid in blood. 

But the Knight of Blood could change that just as soon as he reclaimed the memories that he already had. Terezi knew; she’d seen the name written across the seams of Karkat’s mind like a signed work or art, and so did Dirk and Jake, and John.

Calliope turned away and closed her tired eyes. She had waited for so long to see Roxy again. A few more weeks would pass in a blink when time didn’t exist and always moved too fast. She patiently slept on, aware of her dreaming, and dreaming of the day that she too would rejoin the world that she had given her life to create. 

Calliope smiled in her sleep, safe in the knowledge that her Knight would be there to wake her up the next time she opened her eyes, and at last- all was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was never a resurrection story, and it was never really about getting Karkat's memory back, though both of these things are things that happen. I left all of the pieces inside the story. All of the answers were there in plain sight, but it was written in a way that intentionally drew readers to the wrong conclusions so that when plot happened it came as a true shock. I wanted readers to experience this fc as an experience, something that unfolded on the page in real-time, and I hope that I succeeded. 
> 
> I love this story so much and I hope that you do as well. There will be an epilogue after this, one last chapter, but it's finals week here so it might be a while until it's posted, but thank you if you stuck around this long. 
> 
> Now onward to bigger and better fics!


	18. Blood Remembers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The epilogue everyone has been waiting on. Sorry it took so long moving sucks but here it is!

It didn’t hurt, dying. 

The part that hurt was remembering what came first. 

Karkat remembered what had happened during his death, not this one—the chill of the cold stone of his questbed seeping into his skin like ice, his heart pounding in the darkness as his claws dug into his palms and-- No, not this one, the first death. All the way back at the beginning.  
He remembered.

He remembered EVERYTHING.   
…

 

Karkat opened his eyes, his skull throbbing as he hissed out a lungful of air and clamped his fingers against the wound. His fingers came away clean when he touched the tender skin where Kanaya had knocked him out. Rope fell away from his hands when he lifted them to his face, the bindings already severed by the person at his side. Calliope blinked at him, her green eyes incalculably sad. 

“Did they really leave us behind?” Karkat asked, drawing himself up off of the ground to sit beside the cherub. 

Calliope nodded. She answered his next question before he could ask it. “Dave doesn’t know.”

Karkat worried at his bottom lip with his teeth, overcome with frustration. “I knew Kanaya didn’t want me to fight, but how could she do this? Terezi gets to join the final battle and she’s fucking blind. Why didn’t Kanaya hogtie her up in the trees with the rest of us ungodtiered smucks?” He didn’t mention the part that really burned him- that Terezi would be fighting at Dave’s side and not him. 

He growled, his claws tearing at the ground. “We didn’t fight all this time just to sit back and do fucking nothing!”

Calliope waited patiently as the troll clawed up the grass at his side, the blades the wrong color when he threw them away. Blue and green, nothing like the grass on Alternia or Earth. There was nothing but a forest of bare trees around them, and a dark sky above him. He asked, “Where the fuck are we?”

Calliope looked up at the stars overhead and ignored his question. “This will not be the final battle,” she said. 

Karkat paused with his mouth still open to complain again. “What?”

“This will not be the final battle,” Calliope said again, firmly. “There’s still one left.”

“But I thought-”

“I’m right,” Calliope said.

“But the plan-”

“The plan was wrong,” she said. “Karkat, think about it. They’re going after Her Imperious Condescension and both of the Jacks. Those are battles that we will win.”

“You’re talking about Cal-” Karkat bit off the rest of the word when Calliope nearly eviscerated him with her eyes. She glared at him until he swallowed and continued like nothing had happened. “What the fuck does he have to do with this?”

“The two of us have been locked in opposition since the existence of Skia itself,” she murmured, rubbing at her temples as she released his hands. “We can’t win the game without defeating him.”

“Which we can’t do,” Karkat guessed shrewdly. “Or at least that’s what you think.” Personally, Karkat thought they had a pretty good chance of defeating the other cherub, Lord of fucking Time be damned. They had their own Time players, both godtiered, plus everyone else left alive. Calliope had been left behind with him for a reason- she wasn’t a fighter. How much trouble could her brother be?

“He cannot be defeated,” Calliope told him. “It is already certain that I will lose to him and he will kill anyone that stands in his way.”

“I don’t see what’s changed,” Karkat said, growling again. “The two of you have been chasing each other across four different fucking universes in your little cherub scheme and you’ve never mentioned this losing thing until now. What changed?”

She took a deep breath before speaking. “There is no new universe,” she said, deadpan and serious in a way that made her eyes seem like glass. “There never will be. This game is too broken to ever complete the Final Alchemy. The frog is dead, the code is ash, and Skia will never again play her game. The cycle is forever broken and all that is left, all that will await us no matter what routes we take or what paths we choose or don’t choose… it all ends with him.”

Karkat leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes.

“You do believe me, don’t you?” He heard Calliope ask, her voice pleading. “Please Karkat, you must believe me.”

“I do,” he said, sighing. He opened his eyes. “I don’t even know fucking why I believe you, but I do, because if there is any infinitely insubstantial hiveshit way for the universe to find a new route to personally fuck me over, then that’s what’s going to happen because just fuck me I guess.”

“Good,” she said, swallowing as she turned her solemn gaze upwards again. “It will begin soon.”

It happened with a shattering- some vast cataclysmic awakening of destruction and unbridled chaos so that the sky was bright overhead, screaming vivid colors through a mess of shattering light and madness.  
The air shook with the force of an explosion he never saw. There was no flash of light, no fire, only the forceful exhale of a power that shook him to the roots of his dull teeth.

“Holy shit,” he wheezed, the force of the explosion rocketing through the quiet forest. Leaves drifted to the ground in waves. “What the fuck is going on?”

Calliope held up one boney hand. “Wait,” she said. “He is already here.”

A strangled scream rang out. The sound drifted down to settle itself among the rain of leaves, a cruel laugh as vast as the universe itself. Holy shit, was that Caliborn? Karkat looked up, desperately searching for the source for the scream but he saw nothing but darkness and blinding light. 

“We’ve got to go,” Karkat said, making to stand up but Calliope reached out and took his hands in hers, clasping them tightly. “Calliope, we have to go! We have to help! We can’t just sit here waiting.”

She raised a single sad eyebrow at him and flicked her eyes upwards again. “Do you really think that you can do anything that will change the outcome?” she asked quietly. “Karkat, look at you. Look at us.” Her hands tightened on his, stopping him from reaching for the sickles that he knew could never be effective against a villain of this magnitude. He tried anyway, stubborn, because even when his life had veered straight into the pile of shit that defined his entire existence he’d never given up. He managed to snatch his sickles from his sylladex and Calliope held his hands together, the hilts of his weapons trapped between their interlocked fingers. “We’re not godtiered,” she said, her voice firm. “We can’t fight this.”

The sky overhead fractured like a pane of glass and Karkat knew one thing- This was a fight between gods. A single lone troll had no place on this battlefield. Kanaya had been right. What the fuck was he going to do? Lob his sickles into the fucking sky? He wiped the tears from his eyes as Calliope cringed lower and lower with each strangled scream that rang out. He’d never felt so helpless. 

“We’re going to lose,” Calliope said, her head bowed and her face covered with a dark cowl as she rocked back and forth with her thin arms drawn up to her knees. “We can’t win against him.”

Karkat knelt beside her, dropping his sickles to the ground with a clatter. “What can we do?” He asked, his throat harsh and scratchy from crying. There had to be something- anything! The sky was on fire, planets colliding, the air filled with a cold and cruel laughter that rang out from the death of existence itself, flickering through every color of the rainbow in a seizure-inducing span. They were in danger, Dave was in danger. He could be dying right now and Karkat couldn’t do anything he was h e l p l e s s. 

The realization struck him like a rod of ice. It flooded a cold chill through his blood. 

He’d always been helpless. Even before the game, back when he thought his only hope of surviving to ascension was to stay isolated, lay low, and hope that someone higher on the hemospectrum took pity on him. In the game? He’d fucked that up too. Everyone was fucking dead and it was all his fault for being such a horrible leader and an even worse friend. He didn’t even want to think about Gamzee. That particular failure was so awful it was fucking laughable. He’d never been anything but helpless, and now when it was time that he really needed to step the fuck up and not be so fucking pathetic he was stranded, suffocating, marooned on this rock to hear the destruction of those he loved without ever being able to do a fucking thing about it. Dave had never deserved him, and the knowledge crawled its way up his throat in a sob. 

“What can we do?” Karkat demanded, shaking. He was wound tight enough that actually snapping apart at the seams felt possible. He would dig his claws beneath his skin if it would rip the feeling out if he could. It was going to tear him apart. 

“I have to lose,” The cherub said, her voice strangely calm. “That’s how we win. I have to lose to him.”

“What can I do?” Karkat asked. “Calliope, please.”

“I can’t do it alone,” she said, still not looking at him. “I can’t; I’m not enough. I can make the gate, but there needs to be a sacrifice. Someone has to pay the price.”

Her words echoed and the noise was lost to the battle raging overhead. He leaned closer, fighting to understand as he replied. “Tell me what the fuck you mean,” Karkat pleaded. “Please. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything you want if it’ll help end this just fucking tell me.”

Calliope stared at him, the reflections of the madness happening above swimming in her eyes. “I can open a gate and create the new universe, but there’s two problems.”

“Name them,” Karkat demanded.

“I can open the gate, but… I die.” She said simply. “I will be the gate, and my body will provide the structural network that will form the fabric of the new universe. That is what Space does. That is my ultimate role as Muse, to die and create through the sacrifice a way to end the game once and for all.”

Karkat sucked in his breath with a sharp hiss. “You fucking what?” He screeched, already grabbing at her like she would disintegrate right then and there. “You are not fucking allowed to die! What the fuck Calliope?!”

“That is the only way!” She hissed back, narrowing her eyes. “That’s how this game works. My brother think this is the same as when we played chess as children, but he has no care for the individual pieces in play. He’ll flip the board at the end, like he always used to do when we played, unless we flip the board first.” She let go of his hands and rubbed at her eyes, a hard gleam in them. “I’m doomed either way,” she said, her voice choked with tears. “At least like this I can save the rest of you.”

“What’s the second problem?” He asked, like her dying wasn’t bad enough.

“Once the gate is opened you can rally everyone and send them through into the safety of the new universe,” Calliope said, “But, once opened the gate cannot be closed without a second sacrifice.”

“And if the gate is left open..?” he trailed off, but Calliope was already nodding.

“Nothing will stop my brother from following you into the new universe, to restart all of this again and kill everyone.” She turned her face away, still crying. “Karkat I can’t ask this of you and I wouldn’t, but time is running out and I don’t see any other way out of this.”

The sky ignited again and he blinked away stars. “How long do we have?”

“Hours.” She said. “They can hold him off, but not for long.”

“How long have you known this?” Karkat asked, his voice shaking, tearing furrows into the ground around him with his claws. 

“I think I always knew,” Calliope admitted, not looking at him. “But I only recently understood.”

His mind was racing as the little pieces he’d managed to assemble about the cherub and her brother fell into place. His knees felt weak, he had to struggle to stay crouching and not fall over into the limp leaf litter as he ground his palms into his aching eyes. He’d actually been stupid enough to believe that they actually had a shot at winning. He’d actually started to fucking believe that they would get to live and that he and Dave-

Dave, who was fighting right now, who could be fucking dying-

And he knew what he had to do. 

Karkat took a slightly hysterical breath before speaking. “How do we do this?”  
…

 

The rules were simple. All he had to do was tell three lies. 

 

1\. “I don’t know how long this thing will stay open.”

There was a break in the madness like a lull in the storm. The gate gave shelter from Caliborn’s attack, and the area around the platform was calm. It wasn’t like the gate he’d seen before, the massive blue SGRUB gate on its winner’s platform before everything had gone to hell. This gate had the same electric draw as the first gate, a steady thrum filled the air around the shimmering gate. It was an open door, its edges in constant motion like a Skian defense portal woven of flowers and fire, but this one lead to a new place.

The open gate shone with gentle green and white glow that Karkat forced himself not to think too hard about. The raised dais hung suspended in the center of the incipisphere, and its glow called what was left of existence to it with open arms. 

Jade showed up first, no surprise there. The Witch crackled onto the platform with the snap of a First Guardian, her rifle at the ready. “Karkat?” She asked, squinting at him, at the open span of the portal behind him. “Is this, is it- a… gateway?” 

“Jade, great, you’re just the person I needed to talk to,” Karkat said, striding forward to her. “Listen, change of plans. The gateway is here and it’s open. I don’t know what the fuck you guys have been up to with fighting the bosses but something must have fucking worked because the gate’s open.”

Jade frowned, staring keenly at the gate the other Space player had created. Could she feel it? Karkat’s throat was painfully dry as he waited for her to call him out on his bullshit bluff, but when she turned back to him she was grinning. “It’s open,” she said, a wild smile overtaking her face as she brushed her hair back where black strands were peeking out of her hood. “Karkat! The gate is open!”

“I noticed,” he said, knowing that he sounded pissed off but unable to help himself. Hopefully Jade was so ecstatic that she wouldn’t notice. “Jade, focus.”

Her awed eyes snapped back to him, ears twitching with excitement. “Okay.”

“I need you to gather everyone here as fast as you can,” Karkat ordered. “We need to get the hell out of here before something else probably terrible and fatal happens.” 

“I can do that,” Jade promised, fire and stars shimmering through the fabric of her dress as she raised her hands to the gate.

“Quickly,” Karat snapped, hurrying her on with shaking hands as he said his first lie. “I don’t know how long this thing will stay open.”

“Yes okay I will be right back!” Jade said, jumping away almost before the words had left her mouth as she teleported out.  
...

 

2\. “Calliope already went through.”

Jade brought back John’s group first. He, Roxy, Rose, and Kanaya looked like they’d been run over by a heard of diseased cholerbears and shit out afterwards onto a field of mud. The front of Rose’s robes were covered in blood, but they were all standing. Rose was leaning heavily on Kanaya, and at the sight of the other troll Karkat’s eyes nearly watered. He’d spent a few minutes rubbing at the rope burns around his wrists and thinking about all of the very loud words he had to say to her about being knocked out and tied up like a wriggler, but the words stuck in his throat. 

John’s leg was obviously fucked up, but he was hovering a foot off the ground and grinning like an idiot as Roxy laughed. Apparently they’d been able to handle the HIC with minimal injuries. Jake was next; Jade unceremoniously dumped him onto the platform and vanished again. Then came Jane, who immediately went to fix John’s leg and heal the places where Rose kept her hand clamped tight against her side. The gate cast its clean light over them and illuminated a crowd of young gods and Karkat knew that he no longer fit into the group he’d spent the last sweep and a half with. Today wasn’t the only time the other players had left him behind, but it was the time that opened him eyes to what had been slowly happening for perigrees. 

Then Jade popped back into the middle of them and with her came Terezi, thankfully just as unharmed as Karkat knew she would be. But that thought hurt too much when it crossed his pan, because even now he couldn’t separate out his own selfish inadequacies when it came to the tealblood who was superior to him in every conceivable way. 

But then he saw Dave, and all other thoughts fled his mind when he noticed that the Knight’s godtier wear was liberally splattered with blood. A wordless panic gripped him. Dave wasn’t standing, Terezi was holding him upright and jegus fuck no. No. 

“Dave!” Karkat yelled, already running towards him. But then Dave turned and he saw that Dave was fine, the blood wasn’t his, and he was leaning on Terezi because together the two of them were carrying an unmoving Dirk. 

An instant later a second Dave appeared and gingerly placed Dirk’s head on the smooth ground beside them and vanished right as Karkat crashed into the small group. A dreadful cry went up. “Jane!”

“Shit shit shit shit shit,” Karkat cursed, falling into Dave, everything else a smear of forgotten importance when compared to the devastated look on Dave’s bruised face as he held Dirk. Karat didn’t ask what happened. He didn’t ask anything. All he did was bury Dave’s face against his shoulder and whisper, “Don’t look,” as Jane quickly hurried over to try and revive their dead teammate. 

Karkat kept up a steady stream of cursing as Jane’s hands filled with a blue glow. It couldn’t have been heroic, it couldn’t have, not after everything that had happened. He repeated the thought to himself, his mind on fire and Dave still hadn’t moved in his arms but the troll could feel his shoulders trembling.

Dave must have felt it when the magic took hold of Dirk’s body, because Karkat left out a hissed breath of sheer relief that was echoed by Jane, and the Time player collapsed into the troll.

“Oh god,” Dave choked out. “Is he, Dirk, is he?”

“He’s going to be fine,” Karkat promised, shushing him gently. “It’s over. Dave, it’s okay it’s over.”

Dave kept his face turned into Karkat’s shoulder until Jane’s healing light had faded. Dirk, his head newly reattached, slowly sat upright and wrung his hand around his neck with a grimace. 

“Shit,” Dirk said, blinking up as he twisted himself upright, the blood already leeching out of his godtier outfit. “But it worked, didn’t it?”

Terezi punched him hard enough that the human staggered to the side and fell back on his butt, where he just shrugged as Terezi towered over him. “If you ever pull some shit like that again,” she threatened, “they won’t be able to find your head by the time I’m done with you.”

Karkat bit his tongue to stop from screaming obscenities at the pair of them. What the fuck had happened?

The Heart player ignored her, his eyes on his brother. “Dave?” Dirk said, slowly, “It’s okay. I’m fine now.”

Karkat growled at Dirk, his heart heavy with misplaced protection for Dave, because who the fuck did Dirk think he fucking was? The troll didn’t care about the specifics of what had happened- whatever it was, it was Dirk’s fault for sure. Terezi wasn’t wrong about these things and Karkat would have bet the human deserved that punch, but at the sound of the growl Dave raised his head from the troll’s shoulder.

“I’m going to try my best to forget that ever happened,” Dave said, shaking his head. “Don’t do that again. Like, ever.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to,” Terezi said, sniffing in the gate’s direction. “Is it over?”

“Did you win?” John asked, still floating even though his leg was no longer broken. 

“We kicked ass,” Terezi grinned wickedly.

“And Her Imperious Condescension has been defeated,” Kanaya said. “Though she put up more of a fight that we had originally anticipated.”

“Same here,” Dirk said.

There was a moment of silence, then John spoke up again. “So we won?” he asked, his face tight with confusion. “The gate’s open. But, the other cherub, he attacked right after we beat the HIC. Why is the gate open if there’s still a villain that’s out to get us?”

Jade bit at her lip. “I’m not sure,” she said, “But the gate’s real. I can feel it.” She held out her hands to the circle of light and smiled. “It feels like an empty space right now, but I can tell that it’s waiting for us.”

Karkat swallowed hard while everyone looked at the portal. It was still shimmering gently, a siren’s beckoning call that he could feel tugging at him. It was hard to look away. 

“Okay, new plan.” John said, clapping his hands together with glee. “We go through the gate and figure everything else out once we’re out of here.”

“I second the notion,” Jake said, jumping up and turning to the portal like he would dash through it.

“Don’t be stupid!” Karkat screeched at him. “We need a Time and Space player to go through first. That’s how these things work.”

“I’ll go,” Jade immediately volunteered. “Aradia should be here in a second. She can go with me.”

“Wait,” Roxy spoke up, her voice warbling. “Karkat, where is Calliope?”

There was a shocked silence as the rest of the group took a quick headcount and came up one person short. 

“She was with you, wasn’t she?” Roxy asked, still searching for her friend. 

Guilt was a thing with teeth. It struck like a gnawing thing, because how could Karkat look at her and say the truth? “She was,” Karkat said, steeling his aching heart as he said his second lie. “Calliope already went through.”  
…

 

3\. “And I’ll be right behind you.”

 

Karkat was already trying to distance himself. Dave was glued to his side like a limpet, totally innocent in not-knowing what was about to happen. 

That was the hard part- Dave. The human was always the crux that stopped the beaten smear of self-restraint that was all the troll had left of his common sense from absconding so fast that it broke the sound barrier. 

Karkat was saved from thinking too hard about that by Caliborn’s universe-encompassing screech of defiance.

“YOu WILL NOT. DEFEAT ME.”

The shelter that the gate gave the small group began to compress, the wild storm of magic and chaos pressing closer as the Lord of Time vented his rage on the timeline. Whole sections of the sky went dark, written out of existence.

Aradia appeared in a burst of red light, rust-colored blood leaking from her nose in a flood as the troll grinning with wide-eyed abandon. “Can you see it?” she said, disregarding Kanaya’s dull murmur of concern. “The incipisphere. It’s breaking itself apart.”

There was another shriek from above, and Dave winced. The Knight pressed two fingers to his face, and his hand came away bloody as he swayed. “Oh shit,” he said, blinking back the dizziness. 

Karkat stared at the blood trickling from Dave’s nose with a wordless horror. He whipped around to Aradia, desperate for an explanation. 

“I can feel it too,” Aradia said, nodding at the other time player. “I don’t think it will take much longer for him to kill us.”

Dave scrubbed off the blood with a grimace. “It’s okay, I’m fine,” he said, leaning into Karkat for support as another swath of stars were extinguished. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

They went in pairs- Jade and Aradia first, exactly like the new universe needed. The rest of the order didn’t matter. This was only about the first and the last.

That was the last bit of the plan. Karkat had to be last. That’s how this worked. 

It wasn’t hard to convince everyone to let him and Dave go last. With Caliborn screaming overhead as existence contracted down to the platform, the gate, the two of them, an endless depth of nothing surrounding the portal on all sides… in the end, arguments didn’t matter. John and the rest of them knew that they could trust Karkat and Dave to watch their backs. They didn’t even fucking question it.

Which made it really unfair that Karkat’s eyes kept traitorously watering. He wiped the evidence away when Dave threw his head back to study the shrinking sky. His hand was tight around Karkat’s fingers, a sword in his other hand, and even with a world’s worth of fucking guilt the troll couldn’t bring himself to pull his fingers free. He was selfish, and awful, and he deserved what was coming more than any of them and he was the most disgusting thing that ever lived but he couldn’t make himself let go of Dave’s hand.

He didn’t know if it would hurt. He kind of hoped that it did. He deserved that hurt in the exact same way that he didn’t deserve Dave. 

Too fast they were the only people left. The gateway eagerly swallowed up the other players. He could feel himself sweating, his heart pounding. It was too fast. Didn’t he get more time that this? Just a few more seconds’ worth of holding Dave’s hand and acting like everything would be fine? Or was that him being a selfish prick again?

“Are you alright?” Dave asked him. Karkat could never hide anything from the human; Dave was too observant, too in tune to the troll’s expressions and feelings, and Karkat was the world’s worst liar. But he had to make this last lie count, so he just wordlessly nodded and hoped that it would be enough. 

For a brief and shining instant, they were the only two people left in existence. Caliborn didn’t fucking count, even when the cherub was straining to devour them, barely held at bay by the glowing white light of his sister’s sacrifice. Which even now was growing smaller and smaller. Karkat knew that he didn’t have long. 

“We should go,” Karkat said, hating himself, but if there was one final fucking thing that he could do to make the ugly scar of his own mutant existence a little less painful for everyone involved, it was make sure that Dave would be okay.

Calliope had promised him that Dave would be fine. That Terezi and Jade and Kanaya would be fine- that everyone would be fine. 

Then why was he shaking so much?

Dave must have thought that it was nerves. Karkat couldn’t quite tell, the human’s face was still streaked with blood and there was bruising that crept out from under the edge of his shades and tracked a dark path up to his forehead to hide in his pale hair. Caliborn was working him over even now, stabbing at him in hidden places that the troll couldn’t see. 

Maybe it was better this way. Karkat had always sucked at goodbyes. Calliope had told him that there was a chance that she might be able to revive him in some unknowable future in a different universe that he didn’t get to be a part of, and that sliver of hope wasn’t enough to tempt Karkat into telling Dave the truth. 

The troll might have deserved this, but Dave didn’t. And that was the most fucked up part of all of this and he couldn’t even warn Dave because it was only them left so if it wasn’t Karkat then it had to be Dave and that was unacceptable. 

The platform was getting smaller, and Dave swayed heavily to the side with the next bolt of destruction, wincing.

“You need to get out of here,” Karkat said, leading Dave to the portal.

The gate stood shining before him, and Dave looked at him and grinned and Karkat’s heart fucking broke. It was just a small grin, weak, wary still but full of nothing but amazement. It left no survivors. “We did it,” Dave said. “It’s over.”

“It’s over,” Karkat repeated numbly, his own bloodpusher in splinters, squeezing Dave’s hand, aching to kiss him one last time but not cruel enough to cross that line. It was better to keep Dave thinking that everything was okay up until it wasn’t anymore. He deserved a clean break. To make it fast. 

“You go first,” Karkat prompted him, and Dave didn’t even blink when he told his final lie. “I love you,” he said, “And I’ll be right behind you.”

Karkat entered the gateway a half-step behind Dave, hanging back only enough to make it official. The last thing he remembered was the warm pressure of Dave’s hand, and then everything faded.  
…

 

That was the first time. His second death wasn’t nearly so dramatic. It was instantaneous and painless. Sollux made it quick with some godtier death shit and five seconds later Karkat found out up close and personal why Dave and John had the entire city above the chamber evacuated because holy fuck.

[Rise up, Knight of Blood]  
…

 

But that wasn’t important. This was what mattered. 

Karkat, newly resurrected and still reeling from the after burst of pyrotechnic hysteria that had been his quest bed throwing a bitchfit about the whole affair. Who the fuck even cares? He was here, he had Dave at his side, Dave- who waited for him, and it was time to fix one last thing before they could start their happily ever after.

Bringing back Calliope was remarkable easy. All of the other gods had met him in the Great Temple above the chamber, which was looking a little worse for the wear after the resurrection thing and its subsequent explosion. Oh well. It was nothing that couldn’t be fixed. 

For the first time he understood what it meant to look around and see Feferi’s smiling face, to see Sollux sneering at him, To see Tavros and Nepeta and hell, even fucking Eridan, because they were here too and shit didn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

It would take some time before Karkat was used to being a god, but he now understood Blood in a way that made it easy for him to see all of the bonds that were woven through the group of other players. They were covered in the red strings, each of them different and incandescent and shimmering. They were beautiful and breathtaking and he could see the invisible ties that were strung from him to them, some tangled and knotted, some faded, but still present and there.

Then there was Dave.

His own tie that linked him to Dave was a searing red, pulsating slightly, stronger than any chain. It would have made his breath catch if he still had lungs. Being unbound was fucking strange. The entire globe of the planet was hanging below him. He could have held the entire world in one hand, but he was also covering the face of the planet, everywhere. Was this what it was like? This limitless freedom? He was soaring over mountains, ghosting over cities, feeling the turmoil of a strange race of black and white creatures on the brink of war across an ocean he’d never seen, all without leaving the temple. That last bit troubled him. He made a mental note to stop the Carapacian civil war before it could formally begin, missing WV with a sharp ache.

Dave looked the same, still dressed like a homeless miscreant, and Karkat had a cape now and that was weird but it felt the same when he reached out and took Dave’s hand.

It was so much all at one, but it felt fucking right. It felt like this was who he was meant to be, like he’d peeled back some blinding scales covering his eyes and had seen the sun for the first time. 

It was easy to find the ties that flowed from Roxy and follow them up into the stars, chasing after the fragments that even broken were still linked at one end to Calliope. He gathered up the strings like a bouquet of flowers in his claws. Blood was about personal connections. Karkat gave a yank and tied the red strings together and with a sideways twist of magic to pull together the ties that bound Calliope and form them again into one person.

He knew what to do. He knew exactly where she was. All that Karkat had to do was bring her back from that place. This was probably about to blow everyone’s fucking minds- they had no idea what was about to happen. 

The red circle formed on its own as he instinctively wove the magic into the right shape. Lightning cracked across the walls of the temple, reflecting red off the marble and gemstones that surrounded them. The air ripped itself open, a sucking void of darkness that bled light around its edges as Karkat reached into the gap between the layers that made up their universe, picked across its bones and scoured through the silence and the mire and the sludge of ruined stars that he could remember floating aimlessly in, and took the hand that he knew would be waiting for him. 

He pulled Calliope free of the mess and the rip sealed over behind her as the cherub fell into his arms.

There was a shriek from Roxy and Jane, and the Muse looked up at him, her face set in a peaceful smile and her eyes glowed with white fire. “Karkat,” she said, standing upright, “you did not forget me.” She looked down at herself and shook her head. “One moment,” she said, her feet lifting off of the marble floor as she drew out a slim white wand. “There’s one last thing to meddle with.”

There was a second flash of light, and a voice screamed out its triumphant call to every end of the planet. There wasn’t a single person who couldn’t hear the victorious message. 

[Rise up, Muse of Space.]  
…

 

When the madness ended, Calliope was folded into Roxy’s arms by a sobbing Rogue. Calliope was also crying, and Karkat knew he was. Dave was too. Karkat could tell because when he threw himself at Dave he could feel the glitter of the tears on his cheeks. 

“I remember,” Karkat gasped, breathless even now as he grabbed at the front of Dave’s shirt. He was never letting go again. “I remember everything.”

“You, you,” Dave stuttered, looking from him to Calliope like he was trying to force the pieces to fit. 

Karkat shut him up with a kiss. “It’s a long story,” he said.

Dave gaped at him, already smiling and awestruck as he leaned down to kiss the troll again. “It’s okay,” he said. “Whatever story it is, we have forever to tell it.”

Karkat gripped Dave tightly, staring into the red eyes that hadn’t changed in 4,600 years. “I love you,” he said. “I never stopped loving you.”

“I know,” Dave said, smiling knowingly. “I’m kind of amazing like that, just in case you haven’t noticed.”

The troll couldn’t hold back his exasperated laugh. He’d died twice, and even after four thousand years he was still dealing with this red-eyed human’s bullshit.

And he wouldn’t trade this ending for anything. Everything was exactly as it should be, and this was their happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy endings are hard, but I beleive that this counts as a happy ending. That's it! It's the end of my huge Everyone Lives Godstuck AU that's come so far from being a oneshot I typed on my phone at 4am at work. 
> 
> There's so much that I could say here, but I don't have any idea how to express it. I loved writing this fic so much and it's going to be hard to let go of it. I'll post a thing tomorrow that's like the footnote of this entire crazy work, but after that last thing that's the end. It's time for me to move on to other stories, because HOLY SHIT this was just the beginning... ;)


	19. Footnotes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some helpful information to help give a clearer idea of the world and stuff beause mythology is fun and confusing especially when SBURB is thrown into the mix

The gods and their respective “areas of expertise.”

Note- Some of these things have not yet been invented at the time of this story, and there are several areas still being debated over by the gods or areas that exist in the realm of more than a single god because nothing can be simple ~~and fuckin everybody wanted horses.~~

John: Heir of Breath- Patron of the wind, the skies, rain, the weather, ambition, motivation, and personal freedom. Animal: the rabbit. Friend to travelers and tricksters. 

Rose: Seer of Light- Patron of light, the sun, magic, spellcasting, information, schools, learning, and writing. Animal: the squid. Friend to authors and magicians. 

Jade: Witch of Space- Patron of space, creation, the stars, gardens, pumpkins, and sleep. Animal: the dog. Friend to narcoleptics and florists. 

Dave: Knight of Time- Patron of time, clocks, candles, swords, entropy, temporal progression, plot, destruction, irony, electronic music, soldiers, and war. Animal: the crow. Friend to the underdog and those in need of protection.

Jane: Maid of Life- Patron of life, healing, bread, grain, large corporations, kitchens, and self-image. Animal: the otter. Friend to bakers and CEOs. 

Roxy: Rogue of Void- Patron of void, secrecy, shadows, silence, snipers, fireworks, parties, housekeeping, and explosions. Animal: the housecat. Friend to spies and secret lovers. 

Jake: Page of Hope- Patron of hope, belief, faith, open-mindedness, exploring, maps, adventure, dueling, self-doubt, and islands. Animal: cryptids. Friend to explorers and those who live alone.

Dirk: Prince of Heart- Patron of heart, the soul, introspection, robotics, AI, sleepless nights, management, brokenness, planning, and brotherhood. Animal: the gull. Friend to the broken hearted and trauma victims.

Aradia: Maid of Time- Patron of time, ruin, decay, chaos, funerals, endings, the ground, soil, alleyways, cemeteries, and the afterlife. Animal: the ram. Friend to shepherds and archaeologists. 

Tavros: Page of Breath- Patron of breath, domestic animals, personal freedom, independence, isolation, journeys, bravery, livestock, the disabled, cardgames, and the harvest. Animal: the bull. Friend to the disabled and the henpecked. 

Sollux: Mage of Doom- Patron of doom, physics, twins, electricity, computers, coding, gaming, beekeeping, sickness, rules, limits, pessimism, fate, destiny, sacrifice, and death itself. Animal: the bee. Friend to coders and insomniacs. 

Nepeta: Rogue of Heart- Patron of heart, emotion, personality, instinct, desire, the hunt, wild places, caves, and the untamable. Animal: the wildcat. Friend to new couples and hunters. 

Kanaya: Sylph of Space- Patron of space, creation, motherhood, birth, beginnings, the brooding caverns, fertility, fashion, topiary, and the bounty of the planet. Animal: the moth. Friend of seamstresses and mothers. 

Terezi: Seer of Mind- Patron of mind, logic, reason, facades, personal thoughts, choices, actions, justice, balance, and the law. Animal: the dragon. Friend to Legislacerators and shopkeepers. 

Vriska: Thief of light- Patron of light, fortune, luck, importance, thieves, rebels, and gambling. Animal: the spider. Friend to pirates and revolutionaries. 

Equius: Heir of Void- Patron of void, misfortune, submission, unimportance, loyalty, horses, archery, and strength. Animal: the horse. Friend to first mates and employees. 

Gamzee: Bard of Rage- Patron of rage, negative emotions, narrow-mindedness, denial, doubt, conviction, performers, spectacles, festivals, circuses, halfway houses, the downtrodden, and homeless shelters. Animal: the goat. Friend to abandoned children and the mentally ill. 

Eridan: Prince of Hope- Patron of hope, miracles, possibilities, positive emotions, history, guns, the seas, rivers, lakes, and the bounty of the ocean. Animal: the seahorse. Friend to fishers and those in need of a second chance. 

Feferi: Witch of Life- Patron of life, power, energy, optimism, rule-breaking, rebellion, longevity, hospitals, runaways, and dancing. Animal: the seamonster. Friend to nurses and the repressed. 

Karkat: Knight of Blood- Patron of blood, responsibility, relationships, personal connections, bonds, unity, passion, shields, haymaking, cursing, armies, leadership, peace, and family. Animal: the crab. Friend to soulmates and generals. 

Calliope: Muse of Space- Patron of space, longing, patience, reality, setting, painting, and existence. Animal: the snake. Friend to artists and separated lovers. 

 

Sidenotes:

Soldiers of the Sylph- Trollkind’s child protective servicesx2

A group pf mostly trolls that is based out of the brooding caverns. They travel around looking for potential families for each batch of grubs born, and check up on last year’s wrigglers to make sure that things are going smoothly. You want a troll kid- you go through them. No exceptions. They take their job very seriously, and they are not people that you want to cross. Read: they will fight you and they will win. The Sylph favors them highly, and without them there would be no new trolls. (and hell yes I totally nailed Bronya’s character before the frendsim came out hehehe) 

Remember- a lot of how the gods are perceived is directly dependent on how the people see them. That is an avenue that goes both ways, which is why everyone has characteristics from their class and secondary traits that they are associated with that exist aside from the game. There can also be regional variations with some of these secondary traits depending on what those individuals associate with whichever particular god because it's a big world and superstitions and misinformation exist in every reality because that's what happens with any religious system. It just makes everything more colorful and diverse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone keeps asking me about a tumblr account for them to check me out on, which I don't have. 
> 
> So... I made one. I thought it would be a good idea and stuff for future projects and finding beta readers and all that, and also because I want to be a part of the fandom community, so feel free to pester me through there. 
> 
> Me= https://www.tumblr.com/blog/trypticcognizen

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be fun.


End file.
